Silent Night
by CorriesFutureWriters
Summary: It's been a turbulent year on the cobbles, but it's far from over yet. As the decade reaches its dramatic climax, a sordid secret is ready to be unwrapped. By the time the clock strikes midnight, blood will be spilled and someone will fall. The question isn't, who is capable of murder; it's who isn't?
1. Chapter 1

_**New Year's Day 2020**_

The street was eerily quiet as the cold and crisp dawn crept slowly over the cobbles. But she knew better than to trust in this tranquility; she'd seen enough crime scenes over the years to picture in her mind the residents behind each and every one of those curtains, peeking out at her, gossiping with their family, mulling over all the tawdry details of the life of the victim. It was the same in every street, in every city, right across England. Coronation Street was no different.

"Morning ma'am," the uniformed officer greeted her, holding up the police tape that surrounded the scene so that she could pass into the inner sanctum.

"Constable," she acknowledged him briefly before turning to a man in his early thirties, dressed in the most expensive suit his Sergeant's salary could buy. "Hill, what have we got?"

"The victim here," DS Hill motioned towards the body, cold on the hard ground, its limbs splayed at unnatural angles. "Was discovered just after midnight by the diners from this restaurant here -"

She turned to look at where he was nodding and took in with one glance all the salient details of that unassuming back-street restaurant, the Viaduct Bistro as it was aptly named, nestled as it was underneath the arches of the viaduct above.

"They'd all come out just after midnight, thinking they were going to watch the fireworks, only to discover a local businessman -" DS Hill checked his notebook. "A Gary Windass crouched over the body."

"Where is this Gary Windass now?" she asked.

"Down the station under caution ready to be interviewed," DS Hill replied. "Along with the witnesses."

"DI Fielding," the lead forensics officer greeted her from his position by the body. "Come straight from your New Year's party have you?" He couldn't help but grin; everyone knew that DI Fielding would have been tucked up nice and cosy in front of her fire the night before with only her dogs and a bottle of whiskey for company. He remembered how she'd confessed to him many years ago that, having been witness to the utter depravity with which humans treated each over the course of her twenty-two year career with the Murder Investigation Team, she much preferred the company of animals.

"You got anything for me yet?" DI Fielding chose to ignore her old friend and colleague's insinuation. "Time of death? Cause of death?"

"You know my answer."

"Humour me."

"Fine," he capitulated with an indulgent smile. "As you well know, I won't be able to say with any certainty until I get the body back to the lab, but there's obvious signs of strangulation."

"By ligature or hand?"

"I'd say hand."

"And time of death?"

"Like I said -"

"I know I know, just give me your best guess."

"Anytime between, say... nine and midnight."

"That wasn't that too hard, was it?" DI Fielding said with raised eyebrow and a cheeky glint in her eye that she rarely let other people see. "Let me know when you do the PM, yes? I'd like to be there."

"There's one more thing," he said, somewhat mysteriously.

"Go on."

"I'm pretty sure the body's been moved."

"You mean, they weren't killed here?"

"No."

"You know what this means, don't you Hill?" she resumed her earlier conversation with her sergeant.

He merely shrugged his shoulders.

"The witnesses," she said with a hint of frustration. "We need to question them."

"I think they'll all say the same, ma'am. That this Gary -"

"And CCTV," she continued, seemingly oblivious to Hill. "Talk to all the businesses along the street - the bistro, the corner shop, this place, what is it? The Kabin? That factory and garage there. What else?"

"Ahhh..." Hill tested his memory. "There's a hairdressers and a pub down the end here, and around the corner a florist, cafe, Indian restaurant, umm... barbers, you know, like that old-fashioned kind that's come back into fashion, but all poshed up."

"What?" Fielding scoffed. "Where gullible lads like you get fleeced out of fifty quid for summat that costs a tenner?"

"Well, I, umm, maybe..." Hill mumbled; knowing full well his boss' opinions on what she called 'trendy' joints.

"I want CCTV from all of them."

"All of them?"

"We need to track the movements of every single person involved between the hours of nine and midnight. I'll talk to the next of kin and then meet you back at the station later to question the suspects."

"Suspects?" Hill asked, confused. "But it's obvious this Windass character -"

"Didn't you hear what SOCO just said? The body's been moved."

"I don't...?"

"What if Windass just found the body? Hmm? What if he's the witness and one of our witnesses is in fact the killer?"

"So...?"

"So, we find out everything about the people that live here, that work here. Everyone who had a connection with the victim, no matter how tentative. We need to find out what makes them tick. What makes them happy, and what makes them angry. What would they kill to protect? We need to find out who had a motive. We need to find out who's capable of murder."

"Right..." Hill looked at Fielding with obvious admiration of her thought processes, of that mind that was a curious balance between the analytical and the instinctive. It was all these things that had inspired him to lobby tirelessly for a transfer to work alongside her. It had taken him almost three years, but finally here he was, ready and willing to learn everything he could from the master.

"Get on with it then," Fielding prompted him.

"Okay, CCTV," Hill said as he left to undertake his mission. "I'm on it."

"Oh, and Hill," Fielding called him back tentatively, an uncharacteristic note of demureness in her voice.

"Yes, ma'am?"

"Happy New Year."

* * *

_Author: thelocalknickermerchant_


	2. Chapter 2

_**Christmas Eve 2019**_

"Wow, Michelle! You went all out on the decorations this year, 'avent you?" Peter said, shifting Bertie slightly on his hip, as Michelle turned from the bar to see him looking around the bistro in awe, a smiling Carla by his side.

"Well it wouldn't have turned out nearly as good as it has done if I didn't get some help from me best mate 'ere," Michelle walked around the counter, arms outstretched and wrapped Carla in her embrace, planting a kiss on her cheek. "Thanks again darlin'."

"Oh it were nothing really, Chelle," Carla brushed away the compliment as she shook her coat off her slender shoulders. "Now, what do you need me to do?"

"Nothing," Michelle shrugged.

"Nothing?"

Michelle shook her head, giving little Bertie a tickle on his cheek. "Nope, I've hired all temp staff to serve this evening, so everyone is free to enjoy themselves and the wonderful canapés, which incidentally have not been prepared by the former lying, cheating scumbag chef who used to co-own this place, so..." She turned to the bar, giving Peter and Carla a chance to exchange looks, and grabbed two ornately decorated champagne flutes. "Now this punch 'ere," she began as she handed them the glasses, "is non-alcoholic, but we've also got orange juice and lemonade if you want summat a little different throughout the night. Oh, and I've also got a couple bottles of non-alcoholic champagne if you so fancy, and some squash for the kiddies of course..."

"Thought of everything 'aven't you?" Carla smirked, taking a sniff of the punch in her hand as Michelle grabbed something from behind the bar.

"That I have," Michelle stated slyly as she placed Santa hats upon both Carla's and Peter's heads. "That I have!" she finished, giggling as the pair looked at each other and sighed. "Aww, you both look dead cute! Weatherfield's own Mr and Mrs Claus!" She let out another laugh as they rolled their eyes.

"Uh oh! Hey, Car," Peter placed his glass down on the bar and shifted the fussy young boy in his arms. "I think Bertie wants you, love."

Carla handed Michelle her glass and turned to face Bertie who was leaning forward in Peter's grasp and reaching his hands out towards her, his little face scrunched up as he whimpered for her attention.

"What's the matter, Bertie, hey?" she cooed as she placed her hands under each of his outstretched arms and lifted him into her own. He instinctively wrapped his arms about her and sunk his face into her neck shyly before resting his cheek upon her shoulder as she readjusted him on her hip. "Not a fan of Uncle Peter's aftershave?"

"Hey!" Peter poked her playfully in the ribs. "You said you loved this cologne."

"And I do, baby," she smiled, leaning in and softly kissing him. "But I reckon _he_ prefers the smell of my shower gel."

Peter smirked at Michelle before nodding towards Carla. "I reckon there's a couple other things he prefers as well..." He gestured towards where his nephew's cheek was resting comfortably on Carla's breast.

"Peter!" Carla scoffed, hitting his arm with her free one. "He's a baby for crying out loud!"

"And as such he knows how comfortable _those_ are compared to the rock hard pecs I got beneath me shirt," he winked at her before leaning down and lightly pinching Bertie's cheek. "Don't you? Yes you do!" Bertie giggled and turned his face shyly into Carla's chest while Peter stood back up, arms out on either side of him. "See?" he stated gloatingly as he reached for both his and Carla's drinks. "I rest my case!"

Peter started slightly as a hand slapped down onto his shoulder.

"Not trying to break into my line of work now are you, Pete?" Adam chuckled as he leaned down and planted a chaste kiss on Carla's cheek and gave a small wave to the child in her arms before stepping back and giving Sarah room to step forward.

"Nice hat, Mrs. Claus," Sarah teased as she and Carla exchanged cheek kisses. "So go on, what did you bring for us in your sleigh, then?"

"Uhh, I think you'll find that it's Santa who flies about with toys in his sleigh, while Mrs Claus stays at home and puts her feet up after finally getting shot of him for at least 24 hours..."

"I thought she cooks up a delicious meal for her husband and the elves for when he returns?" Michelle interjected with a grin.

"I think we can all agree that the North Pole would cease to exist if _this_ Mrs Claus," Peter gestured to Carla with his thumb, "were to try to cook a meal for Santa and all his elves..." He snickered, making a motion of an exploding bomb before chuckling at his own joke and taking sip of his drink.

"Well, I happen to think Carla would be better delivering the presents anyhow," Sarah stated, jumping to Carla's defence, while putting on her own Santa hat.

"Uhh the way she drives?" a voice laughed in from behind them. "I don't think so! That sleigh would be in constant need of tune-ups from moving at exponential speeds."

"And a Happy Christmas to you too, Nicholas," Carla rolled her eyes, bouncing Bertie gently on her hip as she took a sip of her punch.

"Happy Christmas Eve, all," Leanne exclaimed, full of good cheer, as she helped Oliver out of his coat and allowed him to toddle off towards the decorated Christmas tree. Standing upright, she smiled awkwardly at Carla and Peter and gestured to Bertie. "Is Daniel coming as well then?"

"Nah, he uhhh, he wasn't feeling up to it, tonight," Peter replied solemnly as he shook his head. "Said he wanted to get the flat all ready for this little one's first Christmas you know, so Carla and I offered to take Bertie for the evening and drop him off close to his bedtime."

"Probably for the best," Adam said, as he wrapped his arm about Sarah's shoulders, pulling her closer to him.

"Where's Si tonight?" Peter asked Leanne as she picked up one of the satay chicken skewers from a tray on the buffet table.

"With Amy, Aadi, and Asha at some light show or other," Leanne shrugged as she dipped her skewer into the bowl of spicy peanut sauce. "They're going to head back to ours after that to watch a film," she said as she turned back to face Peter and Carla. "Do you still want him to come to Roy's around lunch-time tomorrow, or would you rather he meet you at Ken's?"

"No, Roy's is fine, isn't it, love?" Peter asked as slipped his arm around Carla's waist.

"Yeah," Carla responded, waving a finger playfully at Bertie which he grabbed at eagerly. "We can all head over to Ken's together then, can't we?"

"Mmm," Leanne murmured, as she swallowed the morsel she had bitten off the skewer. "Oh, Michelle! These are so good!"

"I know, right?" Michelle responded gloatingly, her elbows leaning casually on the bar top.

"Ohhh phew, ohh... I think someone needs a change," Carla made a face and blew out a breath. "Peter, pass us his changing bag would you?" She placed her drink on the bar and gestured to the black bag she had placed on the stool earlier.

Peter obliged, placing the strap over Carla's shoulder. "Anything else, madame?"

"Yes, you can pass us one of them canapés and all, please!" she gestured with her chin to one of the trays on the buffet. "Better eat one now as I don't know if I'll have an appetite by the time I get back."

Peter chuckled and placed a small toasted crostini with a black olive and fig tapenade and topped with crumbled Roquefort into Carla's mouth, smiling when she groaned in appreciation as she savoured the morsel, before sashaying her way off towards the toilets.

Nick gestured over his shoulder with his thumb to Carla's retreating form. "Have I entered the twilight zone or something?" he asked, his eyes darting to those around him as he accepted a champagne flute from Michelle. "Carla Connor has willingly offered to do a nappy change?"

* * *

"Enjoying yourselves, you two?" Michelle asked the young couple as she made her rounds several hours later.

"Uhh yeah," Alya said a little awkwardly; she still felt like she had to walk on eggshells when it came to her boyfriend's mother. "You really outdid yourself, Michelle!"

Michelle smiled and placed a hand supportingly on the younger woman's shoulder. "Thanks love, I appreciate that."

Alya swallowed slightly. "Listen, thanks again for inviting me after everything that happened with Ray and the catering business. I never meant to imply anything untoward..."

"Alya," Michelle held up a hand and smiled kindly. "It's okay, it's all in the past now. As long as you're both having a good time that's all that matters to me."

"Well, these are exceptionally good," Alya stated, pointing to her plate of spicy cauliflower 'buffalo wings' drizzled with blue cheese dressing, and Thai corn fritters with chilli jam. "It's really nice that you've thought about us veggie's."

"Yeah, I mean, it's all good, but the DJ is a bit lacking," Ryan stated drably as he finished off an individually portioned prawn cocktail. "Shame we don't have a DJ in the family that we could hire - oh wait - yes we do..." he snapped his fingers sarcastically. "What is that guy's name again? Young, dead fit..."

Michelle rolled her eyes at her son. "You would always be my first choice, Ry, but I specifically didn't ask you because I didn't want you working tonight! I want you to enjoy the evening with our family and friends. And I'm sure that your girlfriend would rather have your undivided attention tonight rather than share you with your DJ equipment!"

"She's not wrong," Alya chuckled, as Ryan peered over his mother's shoulder.

"Speaking of undivided attention," he gestured with his chin. "What's up with the other apple of your eye?"

Michelle turned to see Ali engaged in a rather animated discussion with Maria and shook her head. "Don't know," her eyes narrowed slightly as her instincts to jump in and help her son washed over her.

"I thought she wanted nowt to do with him anymore?" Ryan said. "Especially since she started seeing the ginger Don Corleone," he muttered dryly, his eyes darting around to ensure Gary hadn't heard him.

"Well, I think she still cares about him," Alya said wistfully. "Think that's why she's got herself into a state tonight."

"How'd you mean?" Michelle prodded, her eyes fixed on her son and her friend as their discussion progressively got more animated.

"Well," Alya leaned forward a bit and lowered her voice to a whisper. "When her and Gary came in a couple hours back, she seemed alright, but as the night's gone on she's put away more prosecco and wine than I ever seen her do before. And she kept glancing over to where Ali was sitting with Carla and Peter earlier," Alya said, pausing to take a sip of her lemonade. "I don't think Gary was too impressed about it either..."

"Hmm..." Michelle chewed her lip thoughtfully. "Keep an eye on them for me, eh Ry?" she gave her son's shoulder a squeeze and smiled at Alya before heading over to where Carla and Peter sat at a long table with Sarah, Adam, Nick and Leanne. She smiled with amusement as Carla bounced Bertie on her knee, her arms wrapped around the little boy as Oliver kept toddling around to him, placing his toy train out in front of him and making a 'choo choo' sound before giggling and darting off again as Bertie laughed.

"He'll never get sick of that now," Leanne chuckled as she watched her son repeat his little game with Bertie.

"Got to hand it to kids," Sarah said as she swallowed her crispy pork belly and apple puff pastry. "Doesn't take much to keep them entertained, does it?"

"Well, I think this little one is starting to feel a bit tired," Peter chuckled as Bertie yawned and rubbed his eyes with his little fists.

"Ohhh," Carla shifted Bertie so he was standing with his feet on her thighs facing her. "I think that means it's time for PJs!" she said as she lifted him up above her and lowered him back down playfully, before rising to her feet and grabbing the changing bag. "'Chelle, I'm gonna use the office if that's alright? Give him a quick wipe down and change him into his jim jams."

"Oh, you know what, that's good idea, I might come and change Oli and all if that's alright?" Leanne said as she reached down for her own changing bag. "Nick! Grab him for us, will you?"

"On it!" Nick called as he quickly blocked the hyper toddler's attempts at darting around his legs before reaching down and lifting him up playfully. "Oh no you don't!" he laughed as he swung Oliver around and blew a raspberry on his stomach. "Right! PJs, young man!" he placed Oliver into Leanne's arms and continued to tickle him.

Noticing Michelle hadn't yet responded, Carla stood next to her and followed her friend's gaze to where Maria was leaning against the bar and watching them, before tearing her eyes sadly away and grabbing another glass of prosecco. She turned her back on a disheartened Ali and headed back to the table where Gary curiously watched her.

"Chelle?"

"Hmm, sorry love, what?" Michelle turned and smiled at a concerned Carla.

"Leanne and I are going to use the office to put the kids in their pyjamas."

"Oh, yeah, course! Go ahead." She took a sip of her punch, debating whether or not she should go and speak to Ali.

Carla's eyes flickered between Michelle and Ali, who sat at the bar, hunched over his glass, and finally to Maria, who took a large gulp of her drink. "What's going on?" she whispered.

Michelle shrugged half heartedly, but before she could respond she felt the presence of another person on the other side of her. "Ohh, trouble in paradise then, is it?" Leanne chuckled as she watched Gary lean in angrily towards Maria, his voice lowered to a hushed volume but his fingers clenched into fists upon the wood of the table. Leanne glanced to Carla and Michelle who were were also staring at the couple worriedly. "Okay, seriously, did I miss summat?" Leanne asked as she too darted her eyes towards Maria and Gary.

"Umm..." Michelle tore her eyes from her son and glanced at Leanne before resting her gaze on her best friend. "Look, why don't I come with you..."

* * *

"So you think Ali is trying to get back with Maria?" Leanne asked curiously as she pulled a scrambling and giggling half-naked Oliver back by his ankles and hoisted him up onto his feet.

"Well, yeah he is, but, I dunno," Michelle sighed as she collapsed into the armchair and ran her hand along her forehead. "It's got to be more than that doesn't it?" Her hand dropped from her forehead to her chin, her fingers curling up by her mouth apprehensively. "I mean, he seems genuinely concerned for her now she's with Gary. But when I've tried talking to him about it, he just gets all shifty. Ryan too. It's like they know summat but they won't say owt..."

"Know what though?" Carla asked, as she finished buttoning Bertie's pyjamas, and sat him upright on the sofa. "Something about Gary?" she prompted as she folded Bertie's clothes and placed them into the changing bag.

"I think so," Michelle answered.

"Like what?" Leanne asked as she finished changing her son, pulling a pyjama top over his head and letting him scuffle up onto the sofa.

"That's the thing!" Michelle stated in frustration. "I have no idea what it could be, but the way they both get so secretive, it's gotta be something big, doesn't it?"

Leanne pursed her lips. "Maybe they're just worried that loan shark guy, what's his name...? Rick? Maybe they're worried he might come back? I mean, he did sabotage the factory roof to get back at Gary after all."

"Did he though...?"

Carla and Leanne exchanged a look.

"What are you saying, 'Chelle?"

Michelle shrugged. "I don't know. Just a feeling I've had in my gut since the whole Rick sabotaging the roof story came out."

"What kind of feeling?" Leanne prodded.

"That I think Gary had more to do with that roof collapsing than Rick did..."

"Why do you say that?" Leanne continued, folding her arms across her chest as her own suspicions began racing in her mind.

"No," Carla shook her head and shot her best friend a knowing smile. "This needs to stop. I know what you're trying to do."

"What?" Michelle asked in genuine confusion.

"You're trying to justify my actions and decisions-"

"Car-" Michelle acquiesced.

"No, 'Chelle!" Carla raised her voice firmly. "That roof came down because I didn't act when Gary told me it needed replacing, alright? I thought I had time to find some other way out of that mess, a way that meant the staff could keep their jobs." She closed her eyes to stop the tears that threatened to fall as guilt swept over her once more. "If I had been honest with everyone in the first place, the factory would have been closed for repairs, that loan shark would have been paid what was owed him, the staff wouldn't have been in the factory protesting, and Rana wouldn't have been in the factory at all." She exhaled deeply and set a steely gaze upon Michelle. "This comes down to me in the end, 'Chelle. No 'ifs, 'ands' or 'buts'."

"Carla-" Michelle reached out, placing her hand on her best mate's shoulder before the unmistakable sound of crockery smashing startled all three women.

"What was that?" Leanne pushed herself up from the floor and opened the office door to peer around it just as a glass broke upon the ground and a raised female voice was heard reverberating throughout the restaurant.

Leanne stepped back suddenly, making room for Peter as he jogged into the room. "Hey, you two better get out there," he indicated to Carla and Michelle. "Maria's completely losing it with Gary!"

The main dining room had gone eerily quiet, save for the faint sounds of _Fairytale of New York_ playing through the loudspeakers, with the punters and serving staff, all in their Christmas-themed hats, frozen in a tableau that would have been comical if not for the seriousness of the scene unfolding in front of their eyes.

"Look," Gary's hands were out in front of him, as though attempting to placate the incensed and highly intoxicated woman in front of him. "I'm sorry if you misunderstood me, alright?" he sighed audibly. "Let's go back to yours and we can talk it through, yeah?" His voice was chillingly calm, so unlike the Gary Windass they all knew, and it sent a shiver down Carla's spine. "Come on Maria, don't ruin our first Christmas over this..."

He smiled at her so sincerely, so charmingly, that for a moment she looked as though she was about to agree. But as her eyes swept across the Bistro, to where Carla and Michelle stood looking worriedly in her direction, with Peter and Bertie just behind them, and finally to Leanne and Nick, who was holding little Oliver in his arms, Maria's demeanour quickly hardened. Her head slowly turned back to the man before her, her eyes narrowing into slits as she took a calculated step forward. "Christmas won't be the only thing I ruin, if you don't leave me the hell alone!"

"You heard the lady," Nick called out, smirking as the redheaded man turned to face him. He couldn't help but revel in any and all public embarrassment that befell Gary Windass. He had never harboured any bad feelings towards the former builder in the past; that is, until he tried desperately to implicate Nick in the factory roof sabotage and subsequent manslaughter charge, in order to throw the scent off himself and that dodgy loan shark.

"Why don't you mind your own business, Tilsley?"

"I think it's best if you just leave, Gary," Peter piped up firmly, bouncing a grizzling Bertie in his arms. "I think you've made enough of a show of yourself for one evening."

Gary was about to retort back when his eyes fell on Carla, who stood watching him carefully, her arms folded across her chest. A sense of foreboding swept over him as he took her in; she was looking much healthier than she did when he had stumbled across her in the ginnel earlier that year during the height of her breakdown, but still nowhere near the Carla he knew before. She was still wracked with guilt over Rana's death, her demeanour much more vulnerable to the naked eye than she had ever shown in the past. His guilt now rising to a fever pitch, he found himself wanting to get out of the Bistro as quickly as possible.

"Fine, I'm going," he acquiesced and, turning to face Maria again, he lowered his voice to just above a whisper. "I'll leave you alone if that's what you want. But when you sober up tomorrow and realise what a massive mistake you've made, don't think I'm just going to drop everything and come running!"

Grabbing his coat off the chair he strode angrily to the door, locking his gaze onto Ali briefly before turning back, his eyes now narrowing towards Ryan and flashing him a silent warning before pushing his way out of the Bistro.

Ali was up off the barstool and at Maria's side in an instant. "Hey," he whispered, raising his hand to cup her cheek. "Are you okay?"

"Don't you touch me!" Maria screeched as she viciously slapped his hand away. "You can stay away from me and all!"

"Oi!" Michelle stepped forward in her son's defence. "He's done nowt but look out for you tonight! So don't you go taking your domestic with Windass out on him!"

"Oh just shut up, Michelle, would ya?" Maria sniped.

Michelle's eyes blazed. "Excuse me?"

"You know what?" Maria downed the last of her drink and slammed the glass down on the table, "I am sick to the back teeth of you always sticking your nose in! Your son is a flaming doctor, Michelle! I don't think he needs 'mummy' fighting his corner anymore!"

"You're drunk!" Michelle gritted out angrily.

"Ha! Well Liam always did say that I'd fit right in with the Connor family in that regard, didn't he?" Maria snapped, pulling her coat up over both arms. "Of course, if he actually got what he wanted he'd be with _her_ instead of me, wouldn't he?" she gestured towards Carla who looked away guiltily. "Hey Carla, have you ever noticed how every man we share any sort of history with winds up six feet under?"

"Maria-" Carla tried to intercept her friend's rant.

"Liam, Tony, Frank, Luke..." She chuckled for a minute. "I mean, you only made out with him to make Peter jealous, but still. And oh, I mean, obviously you didn't hook up with him but let's not forget that your brother Aidan and I had a whole affair as well," Maria took a step towards Ali. "I mean, who would have thought that it would be Nick that were the smart one? Got away from both of us while he had the chance," she laughed a bitter laugh. "I'm telling you now Ali, it's safer for you to stay well clear of me. Between bedding both Carla and I you don't stand much of a chance of seeing out the year do you?"

"Alright, enough!" Michelle shouted. "Go home Maria, and sober yourself up before your son sees the state of you!"

Recoiling as if she had been punched in the guts, Maria's eyes began to tear up as she thought of her son. But as her gaze darted around the Bistro, she felt her anger rising once again. "Oh don't worry, I'm going! Because this cozy little scene-" she gestured wildly towards them all, "is doing my head in! You lot, sitting around, acting holier than thou, playing happy families! Acting as though none of you have caused irreparable damage to everyone you've ever come into contact with!" She grabbed the unopened bottle of prosecco Gary had ordered to the table from the ice bucket. "You know what? You all make me sick!"

"Maria, please," Ali pleaded, stepping in front of her as she staggered towards the exit. "Let me walk you home at least."

Maria shoved her finger threateningly at him. "Since nothing I've said is getting into your thick skull, let me be blunt. I want nowt to do with you or your flamin' mother, or your flamin' family," she shouted at him, her face mere inches from his. "So stay the hell away from me!"

Ali stepped back in surrender as Maria pushed past him, watching sadly as she stormed drunkenly out of the restaurant, the prosecco bottle clutched firmly in her hand.

"Ali-" Michelle reached out and touched her son's shoulder but he manoeuvred away from her and headed into the office without a backwards glance. Ryan followed swiftly behind.

"Baby," Carla turned to Peter as she reached for her coat and purse. "Can you take Bertie back to your brother's on your own? I'm going to go check on Maria and I'll meet you at Roy's after, okay?"

"Yeah, course," Peter said as Carla leaned in and kissed him softly on the lips. "Just be careful, love. She's lashing out and I don't want any poison that she decides to spew to set you back in your recovery."

"I know," Carla kissed the top of Bertie's head. "I just want to make sure she's not going to drink herself into a coma." She stepped forward, placing both hands on Michelle's arms and turning her to face her. "Chelle, go check on Ali. He needs you."

At her nod, Carla pecked her on the cheek and headed out of the Bistro and onto the cobbles. The cold chill made her shiver and she wrapped her coat protectively around her slight frame before heading off in the direction of Maria's flat.

* * *

_Author: dipdipdipmyblueship_


	3. Chapter 3

Silence descended over the restaurant and all eyes fell on Michelle, as if subconsciously seeking permission from their hostess to enjoy the rest of their evening. She felt a prickle of heat across her cheeks, her heart still racing from the altercation with Maria. She cleared her throat.

"Sorry for the disruption…" she mumbled awkwardly. "There's more prosecco behind the bar. Let's just try to forget that this happened and continue our celebrations." She forced a smile, raising a glass into the air, when she felt a hand press lightly into the small of her back.

"Go and see Ali," Sarah whispered. "I'll take over here."

"You sure?" Michelle asked, tight lipped. Sarah nodded, a genuine smile on her face. "Thanks…" Michelle muttered, before weaving through the crowd of guests and into the Bistro office. She shut the door tightly behind her, letting out a deep breath, before turning to her sons.

"What the hell was that all about?" she demanded, folding her arms across her chest and tapping her foot on the floor. Ryan merely shrugged, so Michelle turned her attention to where Ali was sitting on the edge of the desk with his head in his hands. "Ali?"

"I've ruined it," he said sadly. "It's over."

Michelle softened. "Hey, don't say that," she said, perching beside him and placing an arm around his shoulders. "Looks like Windass is out of the picture now, so maybe give it a few days to let things calm down and then talk to her."

"You've changed your tune!" Ali snapped back at her, his voice full of bitterness.

"What?" Michelle asked, confused by her son's accusation.

"You were desperate to split us up at the beginning, and now suddenly you think we should try again?"

Michelle paused. It was true; initially she'd had her doubts about Ali and Maria, but it was clear to her now that they weren't as doomed a pairing as she'd originally thought. With Maria, Ali had appeared happier than Michelle had seen him in months and, as his mother, that was all she really cared about.

"Ali, I just want you to be happy," she admitted.

"We were doomed from the outset," he declared, ignoring his mother's confession. "It's no wonder she doesn't want to be with me, what with you lot interfering every chance you get."

"Woah, mate," Ryan chimed in. "That's not fair. We're just looking out for you."

"Well, I don't need anyone looking out for me!"

"Oh really? You're sure about that?" Ryan asked, shooting him a knowing look.

"Will you two please stop bickering," Michelle pleaded as she rose to her feet, a natural instinct to step in and separate quibbling brothers. "It's no wonder I have to keep getting involved in your lives when you're both so insistent on behaving like children!"

"Sorry," Ryan huffed, eyeing his brother dubiously.

"Ali," Michelle sighed. "Listen to me. I know it seems bad now, but things will get better. Maria will realise what she's missing out on. You two were getting on so well. I can't see how you can lose that. Trust me, you'll be back together by the end of the year."

"And why should I be taking advice from you?" Ali hissed, growing more and more frustrated with each interfering sentence that crossed his mother's lips. "You're clearly an excellent role model, aren't you?" he sneered, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "All of your relationships have turned out so well."

"Ali-"

"I mean, anyone would've expected you'd learnt your lesson after Steve. But no, you just couldn't stop Robert from playing away as well."

"That's enough!" Michelle snapped, her blood boiling. "How dare you!"

"Well, maybe it runs in the family. Count yourself lucky that you're not a blood relative, Ryan. You had a lucky escape."

Michelle's hand curled into a fist. She didn't know whether to laugh, cry, or give him a good old-fashioned hiding. She took a deep breath, blinking away the tears that were threatening to spill from her eyes.

"What the hell is the matter with you?" she whispered, staring at Ali and trying to recognise her son in the man that sat before her now. Something was definitely wrong. As long as she'd known him, he'd always been so good-natured, so mellow. And yet now here he was, allowing months' worth of anger to spill out in a fountain of vicious bile, intent on lashing out at the people he held most dear. It was just like watching Liam. She felt a shiver run down her spine.

Her sudden change of disposition didn't go unnoticed by Ali. As he took sight of the horrified look in her eyes, he softened. She was only trying to help. He knew that really. He just couldn't help letting his anger get the better of him.

"Just talk to me, sweetheart. What's happened?" Michelle sat down next to him on the desk once again, attempting to push her unease aside. Ali shrugged, his own anger dissipating ever so slightly.

"I feel like it's my fault," he sighed. "I think that maybe if I'd played things differently at the beginning, been more honest with Maria, then maybe we could have got past this." He shook his head sadly.

"Been honest about what?" she asked, a scowl furrowing her brow.

Ali glanced at Ryan, eyes wide, seeking an explanation that didn't involve telling his mum about the mistakes he'd made. Ryan merely shrugged, unaware of how to cover for him again.

"Just stuff. What does it matter now? She made her decision."

"What do you mean?" Michelle pushed. Ali shifted uncomfortably on the desk.

"I think she was cheating on me," he confessed, shifting uncomfortably on the desk.

"With Gary?" she asked incredulously, her face tightening into a ball.

"No, I don't think so," Ali shrugged. "I don't know."

"Who then?" Michelle demanded. The feeling of utter betrayal that came hand-in-hand with a partners infidelity felt all too raw for her, and the idea that her son was experiencing the same thing broke her heart.

"God knows. It probably was Gary, she'd been eyeing him up for months."

Michelle fought the urge storm out and confront Maria then and there. As much as she wanted to, she knew that neither party would be pleased with her interference. Instead, she took a deep breath, focussing on what was most important at that moment: her son.

"When did you get this idea?" she asked softly, gently rubbing her palm against his back.

"Back in September," he explained. "I went to find her in the salon. We'd had a row and I wanted to apologise. Only, when I got there, it was all locked up."

"Maybe she'd gone for her break?" Ryan suggested hopefully.

"No," Ali shook his head. "The lights were on inside."

"Could have been Audrey…?" Ryan pointed out hopefully.

"Ryan, the doors were locked." Michelle sighed.

"I could hear people inside," Ali explained. "They were chatting and laughing and... It was definitely a man and a woman."

"Maybe Audrey fancied a fumble…" Ryan snickered, earning him a dirty look from Michelle.

"But it wasn't just that. When I finally saw her later, she was really apologetic. Like it was her that was in the wrong, even though the argument had been about me."

"When did you say this was? What was the date?" Michelle asked, trying to piece the evidence together in her head.

"I can't remember exactly. The end of September?" He thought for a moment. "It was the day after they had that big party at number three."

"Oh yeah, the one we weren't invited to…" Ryan said, sulkily. "Hang on. It can't have been Windass then. He was with me!"

"You what?" Michelle asked.

"It was the day I got mugged," he lied, before continuing his story with the truth. "Gary was there, weren't he? So, he couldn't have been with her!"

"Well, that rules him out at least," Michelle smiled, ever hopeful that the situation could be explained away.

"Yeah, but we're no closer to finding out who it actually was…"

"Listen, babe. We don't know for sure that she really did cheat on you. Like Ryan said, it could have been Audrey."

Ryan snorted once again at the idea of Audrey getting it on in the salon.

"Maybe..." Ali mumbled. Deep down, he was sure of the truth and nothing anyone said could change his mind.

"Maybe I should talk to her, once things have calmed down," Michelle suggested. "You know, from the woman scorned to the lying, cheating-"

"Mum," Ryan interjected. "I'm not sure that's a good idea."

"You think it was her in the salon, don't you?" Ali asked.

Michelle shrugged noncommittally. "From my experience, you should trust no one, and suspect everyone. Like you said, I'm hardly the best role model in this situation."

"I'm really sorry, I didn't mean-"

"Forget it, Ali. It's done. Lets all just focus on getting to the bottom of this Maria mess." Michelle stood up and held out her hand to Ali. "Come on, let's try to enjoy the rest of this party, yeah?"

As Ali followed Ryan out of the room, Michelle stayed rooted to the spot. She couldn't shake the feeling that perhaps what Ali had suspected was in fact the truth. She felt the anger begin to rise within her; the thought of her son being faced with the same public scrutiny and humiliation that she had been subjected to only days before made her feel sick to her stomach. She knew that, whatever had happened, she had to get to the bottom of it, and put a stop to it before anyone else could get hurt.

She took a deep breath; an attempt to compose herself and plastered a smile on her face. She stepped out into the Bistro dining room, ready to play hostess once again.

* * *

_Author: bananabreakdowns _


	4. Chapter 4

"Maria!" Carla called out, glancing up at the the window above and taking note of the warm amber light spilling out into the dark night. "I know you're in there!" Carla continued, tapping repeatedly on the door until she heard angry footsteps descending the stairs.

Maria appeared, her cheeks flushed, her mascara slightly smudged, glowering at Carla.

"What do you want?" Maria snapped as Carla crossed her arms and matched Maria's expression with a kink of her eyebrows and a ready pout.

"Maria, what's going on? What happened back there?" Carla asked, furrowing her brow with concern as Maria sighed, leaning back awkwardly against the door, swaying a little as she did so before lifting up the bottle of prosecco she clutched so protectively in her hands to her mouth and taking a messy swig.

"D'ya wa'nna drink?" she stuttered, bleary eyed, offering Carla the bottle.

"I think I'm okay, love," Carla said, as she attempted to remove the bottle from Maria's grasp, but instead watching in despair as Maria jerked her hand away.

"Mine." Maria said firmly, as Carla sighed and moved forwards, gently placing her hands on Maria's shoulders, guiding her back up the stairs and kicking the door shut behind them awkwardly with her foot.

"I think you've had enough now, don't you, Maria?" Carla said as Maria staggered over to her counter and slammed the bottle down. "Alright, go and sit down before you fall down. Here, let's get you a glass of water," Carla said firmly, pulling Maria away from the counter.

"I don't want water," Maria huffed, reluctantly allowing Carla to steer her away until the bottle was out of sight.

"Right, this should make you feel a bit better," Carla said, returning to Maria with a glass of cold water.

"I said I don't want water!" Maria shouted, batting the glass away, causing it to spill all over Carla's leggings and heeled boots.

"Oh, for god's sake, Maria!" Carla cried, sighing as she put the glass down and grabbed a tea towel, trying to pat dry her sodden leggings.

"For god's sake, Maria," Maria mimicked Carla in a high pitched voice, before rolling her eyes and slumping back on the sofa.

"Less mouth from you, thanks missy," Carla warned her as Maria made a loud and very annoyed sigh.

"I can talk to you how I want, Carla," Maria said as Carla raised an eyebrow, knowing deep down it was just the drink speaking; it's not like she could claim the moral high ground when it came to alcohol, could she?

"I'm just trying to help you, Maria," Carla reassured her.

"Well I don't want your help! You are the last person I'd go to for help. You! You mess everything up! And you want to help me!?" Maria spat her venom at Carla who paused for a moment, feeling understandably hurt, before regaining her composure.

'You'll thank me in the morning," Carla said, sitting opposite Maria and sliding a packet of painkillers across the coffee table towards her.

"Just get out, Carla," Maria said bluntly."I don't want you here."

"I'll leave when I think you are capable of looking after yourself," Carla replied as Maria buried her head in her hands, her fingers digging into her scalp as she let out a defeated moan.

Carla watched as Maria continued to moan, as she held her head in her hands, the usually pretty brunette replaced in this moment with a complete and utter mess of a person. Carla bit her lip, thinking back to the countless times she had hit the bottle, and wondered what she must have looked like. Not like this, surely? She grimaced as she remembered Peter years ago, when they'd first entered each other's orbits, confronting her with how unlikeable she was when she was drunk.

The unmistakable sound of retching roused Carla from her reverie. She stared in horror at the sight of Maria bent almost double, her chest heaving, that guttural gurgle emanating from her throat that almost made Carla retch in sympathy.

And then she moved; there was no way she was cleaning up Maria or anyone else's sick. She darted to the kitchen, grabbing the first thing she saw, a saucepan, to catch any sick that Maria was likely to produce. She couldn't help but chuckle at how saucepans could come in useful after all.

"I can't do this anymore," Maria muttered as Carla, who was holding her hair back from her face with one hand, and rubbing her back with the other frowned, pausing for a moment before continuing the soothing motions on her back.

"Do what, Maria?" Carla asked, reaching out for Maria's arm as Maria began to sob.

"The guilt... it's... it's too much, I can't..." Maria sobbed, her sentence faltering as Carla put her arm around Maria.

"Whatever it is, Maria, I'm sure we can talk it through... Hey? It'll make you feel better."

"No! That's the thing, Carla. We can't talk about it, it's too late," Maria said, growing frustrated as she squeezed her eyes shut. "I just can't do this."

"Maria, please don't say things like that. Think of little Liam, eh? He needs him mum to be strong and healthy," Carla reassured her with a small smile.

"Liam..." she whispered sadly. "Every time I look at him... I see it, the guilt... After what I've done... He'd be better off without me," Maria sobbed as Carla shook her head.

"No, love, don't say that. You've done a fantastic job with that little lad. He's lost his dad already, he doesn't need to lose his mum and all," Carla said as she watched Maria's face crumple.

"Liam... My Liam. He wanted to be a dad... so much. I wish... I wish I could have given it to him," Maria mumbled as Carla frowned, confused, before Maria appeared to compose herself, her cheeks flushing red, looking at Carla with wide eyes. "Ignore me, I'm just drunk... and maudlin." Maria furiously wiped her eyes, avoiding eye contact with Carla who was standing very still, watching the younger woman's growing panic with interest.

"Maria..." Carla trailed off.

"Carla..." Maria's voice became low and urgent. "I don't even know what I've said, it were just me drinking too much, yeah? Come on, it was the drink, it was just the drink." Maria chattered on, desperately trying to deflect the situation, albeit to no avail.

Carla simply stood there, her face frozen, her eyes locked on Maria, her smile long faded.

"Carla?" Maria whispered, suddenly afraid.

But Carla ignored her plea; she simply stared at her curiously, wondering... what if? What if Maria's ramblings weren't just drunken ramblings. What if...?

"What have you done?" Carla asked, her eyes wide in horror.

Maria shook her head; no, this couldn't be happening. She reached out to Carla, reached out for the reassurance Carla couldn't give her. Instead, Carla turned on her heel and rushed from the room; she couldn't bear to look at Maria for another moment, she was terrified at what she might do if she saw the truth in her eyes. Maria listened on tenterhooks as Carla's footsteps faded down the stairs and then with a slam of the front door, Carla had disappeared into the night.

Maria wrapped her arms around her knees, pulling them in close to her chest, and began to rock, back and forth, back and forth, a million and one thoughts tumbling through her mind. But, in her inebriated state, she struggled to sort through those thoughts, to make sense of them, to understand them. All she knew for certain was that she had to fix this. She didn't know how, but she was determined. She would do whatever it took to keep her secret safe.

* * *

_Author: Burton and Taylor_


	5. Chapter 5

_**Christmas Day 2019**_

Christmas Day dawned bright over the cobbles. All along Coronation Street, families sat down in front of their Christmas trees, exchanging gifts and looking forward to the excitement of the day ahead.

In the little flat above Roy's Rolls, the unconventional family of Roy, Carla and Peter were also exchanging gifts over the breakfast table. All three of them had been looking forward to this day for some time.

"What are your plans for the rest of the day?" Roy asked with interest, buttering his toast at the kitchen counter as the other two sat at the table.

Peter looked over at Carla, expecting her to reply but, after a few seconds, he realised she wasn't going to; instead she was staring down at the table, almost as if in a trance.

"Erm...we're going to the Bistro for Christmas Dinner with the family and then I think me and Car plan on having an early night. Don't we, Car?" Peter prompted her, frowning as Carla continued to day dream. "Car?"

"Hmm, what?" Her head snapped up, eyebrows raised. "Sorry."

Roy sat down with the couple, looking at them both with a frown.

"Are you alright?" Peter asked with obvious concern.

"Fine," she chuckled. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"I don't know," Peter said with a shrug of his shoulders. "You seem a bit, I don't know, preoccupied?"

"I just, I didn't sleep very well last night and I'm shattered. Living off of 5 hours sleep and having to deal with Jenny drunk at the Bistro later on is not a good combo, believe you me."

"I must say, if it all gets too much then you will put yourself first and leave," Roy piped up, finishing off his breakfast and putting his plate into the sink.

"I'm fine," she repeated with the slightest hint of an eye roll. "I'll be fine."

"I understand that, but Christmas can sometimes be rather overwhelming." Roy nodded, before adding, "I am going to get ready."

Once Roy had vanished into the bedroom, Peter leaned forward and took one of Carla's hands into his own.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Peter asked, his voice low and soothing. "I'm not stupid, you know, I can tell when you're hiding something."

"I don't know," Carla shook her head in confusion. "I think maybe I'm just overreacting."

"Overreacting about what, love?"

"Well, it's just..." she sighed as she attempted to collect her thoughts. "You know when I went to Maria's last night?"

"Yeah."

"She said some really weird things..."

"Weird?" Peter asked, his brow furrowed. "In what way?"

"Well..." Carla faltered.

"Come on," he encouraged her. "You know I'm not going to leave you alone until you tell me."

Carla smiled at him indulgently, leaning forward to give him a quick peck on the lips before continuing. "She was talking about Liam..."

"Liam, as in her son, or...?" Peter didn't want to actively refer to Liam, Carla's former brother-in-law, her former lover; he knew how much of a sore point he was for her.

"Both," Carla replied softly as the ghosts of her past threatened to lure her back into a waking dreamland where the loves she had lost were still with her, where they were still alive.

"What about them?"

"I don't know, Peter," she sighed. "I really don't. I don't know why I'm even bringing this up."

"She must have said something to upset you so much."

"It wasn't so much what she said," Carla began, trying to work out the hidden meaning while she spoke. "It was how she said it. No, it was more than that. It was how she reacted when she thought she'd said too much."

"Which was," Peter prompted her.

"Scared," Carla revealed. "Yeah, she was definitely scared."

"But, love," Peter said, still confused by the whole situation. "What exactly did she say?"

"She was so upset when I went round there. Crying, maudlin, self-pitying, the lot. What you'd expect from someone who was drunk, you know? And I was scared she was gonna harm herself or summat so I was trying to make her realise that she's got so much to live for. To think of little Liam, of how much he loves and needs his mum. And then..." Carla's face scrunched up as she tried to remember. "She started talking about how she felt guilty."

"About what?"

"Liam," Carla said. "Her husband, Liam. How she felt guilty about not giving him what he wanted."

"Which was?"

"To be a dad."

"Well, that's a fair statement, love," Peter tried to reason with Carla. "I mean, he never knew that she was pregnant, he never knew that he was gonna be a dad. Surely that's what she was referring to?"

"Maybe," Carla admitted the possibility. "But that's not the impression I got."

"What else could it be?"

"I don't know," Carla said, her frustration growing. "One thing I do know for sure is that, when they were meant to be trying for a baby, he was... he admitted to me that he was avoiding going up to bed, he was sleeping on the sofa, and when he couldn't make up any more excuses, he..."

"What?"

"He couldn't perform."

"You mean he was...?"

"No!" Carla cried, aghast at the insinuation. "He was fine with me. Just... not with Maria."

"Oh..."

"Which is why I was so surprised when I found out she were pregnant."

"Hang on!" Peter gasped at the idea that had come into his mind. "You don't mean... Liam isn't actually Liam's dad?"

"No! I don't know. It's all so confusing."

"We probably shouldn't jump to conclusions, love. She was drunk, she didn't know what she was saying."

"That's exactly what she said," Carla nodded pointedly. "When she was trying to explain it all away."

Peter sat back, staring ahead, a face of pure confusion. But also concern. This wasn't right, surely?

"You know what, I think I'm just overthinking it. I mean, of course Liam is his dad! Maria was so furious when she found out about our affair, surely she wouldn't have been so angry if she was playing away as well."

"Exactly!" Peter tried to be upbeat, his attempt at keeping Carla's worries at bay. "Hey, I'm hopping into the shower, alright?"

"Okay," Carla said with a smile.

"Try not to think about it anymore, love," he said, kissing her softly on the forehead as he rose to his feet. "It's Christmas. Let's enjoy the day, yeah?"

"Yeah," she smiled at him, reassuring him. "Go on then, get in the shower."

Peter hurried to the bathroom but, before he closed the door, he turned back with a frown to watch Carla as she remained in her place, seated on the sofa, her thoughts clearly still on the mystery she had stumbled upon the previous evening. He would have to make sure she was kept busy today, he determined. Keep her distracted, keep her from dwelling on a situation that was unlikely to bring her any joy.

* * *

Carla stood in her bedroom, admiring her freshly styled hair. Today, she had styled a slight wave into it with a set of tongs. It was unusual for her to style her hair any way but straight, but she knew Peter loved her natural hair so, as an extra special gift to him, she thought she'd try curling it and, surprisingly, it turned out that she actually liked it.

Peter meanwhile was stood in front of the wardrobe, buttoning up his good white shirt, his mind still in turmoil over the revelation Carla had confessed to him earlier that morning.

She didn't seem that bothered by it so why was he? Or maybe she was purposely shrugging it off, not wanting to face up to the reality of it all. It worried him; something wasn't quite right and he needed a second opinion. Was it just the mystery of Maria and Liam that was playing on his mind? Or was it Carla? Could she be relapsing? Could she be on the verge of another breakdown? The thought of this happening to her again terrified him. Ever since she'd been discharged from hospital, he'd kept a close eye on her, determined to spot any telltale signs that she wasn't coping. Had he missed something? Some clue that she was headed once again down that dark and dangerous path that he wasn't sure either of them could survive a second time.

"Come on, baby," Carla said with a smile, shrugging on her black leather jacket and padding up behind Peter. "We're gonna be late."

She wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing her body into his, comforted by the warmth of his body, the feel of his skin, so close to hers. He turned around to face her and, placing his hands either side of her face, cupping her cheeks softly in the palm of his hands, kissed her softly, a little peck on her nose, then her forehead, and finishing with a lingering kiss on her lips.

"Right then, let's go," he said with a sigh, reluctantly pulling away from her. He held his hand out to hers; she slipped her hand into his comforting grip and together, side-by-side they started the short walk to the Bistro.

* * *

"You know what," Carla announced abruptly. "I'm going to drop by Maria's quickly."

"What?" He turned to look at her, incredulous at her last unexpected statement. "But why?"

"I just want to ask her about what she said last night. Maybe it's playing on my mind more than I wanted to admit. I just can't carry on wondering. I'll meet you in there, yeah?"

"How long are you going to be?"

"Not long," she promised as she pecked him on the lips and started to walk away, calling back over her shoulder. "Half an hour, tops."

"Carla, this is ridiculous!" Peter snapped.

"Why?" She challenged him. "Why is it ridiculous that I want answers!"

"Oh, forget it," he mumbled to himself, leaving her to her own devices.

* * *

As Peter walked into the Bistro, his anxieties regarding Carla's mental health increasing, he was greeted cheerily by Michelle.

"Heya! Merry Christmas," she offered him a hug, which he accepted. "Where's her majesty then?"

"Oh, she's just gone to check in on Maria... somewhere," he mumbled. "She'll be here soon."

"Well I don't envy her. That little madam probably has the hangover from hell this morning."

"Eh, Peter! Merry Christmas, son." Johnny interrupted, patting him on the back.

"Where's Carla?" Ryan asked innocently.

"She'll be here in a minute. Now, go sit down." Michelle ordered the two men, who quickly followed her instructions, before leading Peter to one side for a quiet word.

"You're full of the Christmas spirit, aren't you?" she whispered sarcastically.

"I'm worried about Car," he sighed.

"Why?" Michelle asked again. "You two haven't had words, have you?"

"No," he shook his head. "Of course not. She told me something this morning and it's just made me worry about her. About her mental state."

"Oh, god, Peter!" Michelle placed a hand over her mouth slightly. "You don't think she's... I dunno, is she showing symptoms or summat?"

"I don't know anything yet. She's just been saying some really weird, crazy stuff..."

"Like what?"

"Doesn't matter," Peter brushed off Michelle's concern with a sigh; he knew Carla would be furious if she knew he'd been talking about her like this. "I think she's just got the wrong end of the stick, I'm sure there's nothing to it."

"Okay." she said slowly, raising an eyebrow, struggling to understand what Peter was trying to say.

"Just keep an eye on her for me, will you? I'm really worried about her."

"Of course I will," Michelle agreed. "And look, try not to worry too much today. Enjoy Christmas and maybe talk to her about it tomorrow."

"Maybe," Peter wasn't so sure.

"I'm sure it'll get sorted soon." She rubbed his arm comfortingly before she walked away to mingle with the rest of her guests.

"Yeah," Peter murmured to no one in particular. "I sure hope so."

* * *

_Author: carlafanx_


	6. Chapter 6

"Nick, sweetheart!" Gail called after her son as he stormed out of No. 8. "Where are you going? We're going to eat soon."

"I won't be long, mum. There's something I need to take care of."

"But it's Christmas Day!"

Nick didn't answer; he was on a mission and nothing was going to stop him. Not Christmas Day, not a roast turkey ready to be carved, not his mother's suffocating concern; nothing!

Gail watched Nick's progress down the cobbles with a sigh; whatever was bothering him – and she could tell, being his mother, that something was not right with her Nicky – she was going to have to leave him to figure it out on his own. He'd made it perfectly clear that her interference was not welcome.

As much as Gail's thoughts were on her son, the same could not be said for Nick. His mother's whole existence vanished entirely from his mind the moment he had left her behind, staring after him, standing helpless on the street, watching him walk away.

There was only one person on his mind at that moment in time: Maria Connor.

As he stood on her doorstep, his hand raised to ring the buzzer, he took a deep breath, composing himself. He knew that the conversation he was about to have would shape his future forever, whether for good or for bad.

_Bzzzz bzzzz_

* * *

_Some months earlier…_

_Knock knock_

Nick rapped lightly on the door of the barbers shop and sauntered inside.

"Oh, hey, Nick," Maria greeted him from where she was wiping down the hair-wash basins. "I was just closing up, did you want something?"

"Yes," Nick said decidedly as he made a beeline for the bar fridge, an indulgence he and David had planned for this ultimate men's space from the very beginning. "This!" Nick pulled an ice-cold bottle of beer from the fridge and, unscrewing the top, glugged down half of the contents before turning back to Maria. "Do you fancy one?"

"Why not?" Maria smiled at him indulgently as she accepted the bottle he passed to her. "Thanks." She held the bottle out to Nick. "Cheers."

He clicked his bottle against hers. "Cheers."

"So," Maria began after she had taken a very welcome swig of beer. "You're not at home tonight?"

"No, not tonight," he lamented sadly. "Leanne and Steve have taken Oliver to that soft play centre, you know, the new one in town? And Simon's with Peter. And, I dunno, the flat was so quiet with everyone gone."

"I guess it can get lonely if you're used to a full house."

"Yeah, it can," Nick admitted.

"Do you ever regret not having kids of your own?"

Nick laughed, a harsh bitter laugh.

"What?" Maria smiled in confusion. "What's so funny?"

"Do I have any regrets about not having kids?" Nick shook his head, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Maria, that's my biggest regret in life. It's something I've always wanted, you know, to be a dad, but it's always been just out of reach for me. I think I've finally got it and then, just like that, it gets snatched away."

"I'm sorry."

"Hey, at least you've been spared that regret. You've got Liam and nobody can take that away from you."

"That's true," Maria murmured. "Although I've got plenty of other regrets to make up for it."

"Like what?" Nick asked. "You've got a pretty good life from what I can see."

"I dunno, maybe the never-ending disaster area that is my love life? You'd think that at some point I would learn how to pick the right man, or at least how to avoid the absolute car crashes."

"Trouble with Ali I take it?" Nick asked suggestively. "Or is it Gary?"

"Gary?" Maria replied, panicking slightly. "Why would you mention Gary?"

"No reason really, I just saw you two together the other day and you looked very cosy –"

"We're friends!" Maria snapped.

"Okay."

"That's all."

"Okay, I believe you," Nick attempted to placate her.

"Did you tell anyone?" Maria asked nervously.

"Tell anyone what?"

"Nick! Please!"

"Don't worry, I didn't say a word."

"Good! Because I wouldn't want anyone to get the wrong idea."

Nick couldn't help but smirk at Maria's insistence of innocence.

"What?" Maria called him out.

"Nothing," Nick replied, bemused. "It's just you. I can't keep up with your love life sometimes. It's like…"

"You were about to say 'it's like a revolving door' weren't you?"

"No!" Nick protested.

"Don't lie!" Maria teased him. "I mean, it is kinda true, isn't it? I should just face it, I'm a complete disaster when it comes to men. You had a lucky escape, you know."

"Hey, don't be so hard on yourself. We all make mistakes when it comes to love."

"Like you made a mistake hooking up with me?"

"No," Nick replied with sincerity. "I'd never think of you as a mistake."

"Really?"

"How could I?" Nick asked, his voice low and husky as he moved closer to her. "I mean, you're beautiful, funny, loyal. What else could a man want?"

Maria found it hard to resist, not when Nick was showering her with compliments. She stepped forward, so that their bodies were close together, close enough for Maria to feel the heat radiating from him, the electricity buzzing off his skin. She looked up at him, licking her suddenly dry lips, her eyes strangely drawn to his lips as they moved closer to hers.

* * *

"Come up, Nick," Maria instructed him breezily through the intercom.

_Bzzzzz_

Nick wasted no time; he pushed open the door and bounded up the stairs, two steps at a time, his long lanky legs making short work of the staircase.

He pushed open the door and entered, temporarily distracted from his mission by the unexpectedly full flat. He hadn't counted on being confronted by so many people; his driving thought was of Maria, no one else had even entered his mind.

"What can I do for you?" Maria asked him with a smile.

"I need to talk to you," Nick almost whispered his request, his fear of being overheard was so great.

"Well, can't it wait? It's Christmas Day, I've got a flat full of people."

"It has to be now," Nick insisted. "In private."

"Alright," Maria agreed, curious about what Nick would want to talk to her about so urgently. "Umm… how about I meet you in… say, ten minutes?"

"Where?"

"The community garden?"

"Don't keep me waiting."

Maria stared after Nick in confusion as he hurried from her flat without another word or backwards glance.

* * *

Nick sat in the gardens, waiting. It had only been five minutes since he'd left Maria's, but already he was restless. Agitated, he rose to his feet and began to pace. He needed to make Maria see sense. She had to understand it was in her best interests as well as his to keep her mouth shut. If only he hadn't done it in the first place…

In the dimly lit barbers, Nick and Maria moved closer to each other, their lips on an undeniable course to lock, to kiss, to –

The sound of the old-fashioned bell over the door as it was pushed open by a newcomer made the pair jump apart, guilt-ridden over what had very nearly happened between them. They both counted their lucky stars that the newcomer wasn't Leanne, or Ali, or even Gary, the worst candidates to catch them, but simply a stranger.

"Any chance of a trim?" the man asked.

"Ah, sorry," Maria said apologetically. "We've closed for the night. Did you want to make an appointment for tomorrow?"

Nick watched on as Maria took down the stranger's details, arranging a time for him to return the following day. He knew he should be thankful they hadn't gone too far and to now make his escape while he still could, but he didn't. Something was keeping him there, keeping him in that place where, in less than a minute's time, he would once again be alone with Maria. He forgot everything else but the memory of what it was like to be alone with Maria. And he wanted it again, he wanted it desperately.

"That was a lucky escape," Maria sighed with relief as she locked the door behind the departing customer.

"Yeah," Nick agreed as he watched Maria walk towards him. "We could've made a big mistake."

Maria blushed at the way Nick was watching her; but it didn't stop her. She kept walking until she was stood in front of him, gazing up at him, their bodies way too close for comfort.

"It would be wrong," she murmured.

"We shouldn't…" Nick said, breathlessly.

But they did.

"Nick?"

Nick opened his eyes.

"Nick?" Maria asked with a smile as she walked into the community garden. "Where were you just then?"

"Sorry, I was just…" Nick trailed off as he struggled to forget that night and focus on the present.

"Well? What is it you're so desperate to talk to me about?"

"You!" Nick went straight on the offensive.

"Me?" Maria was confused. "What about me?"

"You acting all suspicious. You're gonna give the game away."

"The game?" Maria scoffed. "My life isn't a game, Nick."

"Neither is mine. And you shooting your mouth off like you have been… I'm not going to put up with it."

"And what exactly are you going to do about it?" Maria asked, suddenly outraged by his attitude.

"Keep pushing me and you'll find out. I'm warning you, Maria, do not mess up my life. I have worked so hard to fix things with Leanne and I will not stand by and let you destroy it."

Maria laughed. "You think you've got the perfect life, don't you? You're so smug, I can't stand looking at your stupid smug face."

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Me?" Maria sneered at him. "You're asking what's wrong with me? I'm not the one sitting on a massive time bomb."

"I told you, Maria, you better keep your mouth shut about our little… fumble."

"That? I've forgotten all about that. That's not what I'm talking about."

"Then what?" Nick's initial confusion soon turned to deadly calm. "Tell me."

"It's nothing."

"I don't believe you." Nick grabbed Maria's wrist, gripping it tightly. "Tell me what you meant."

Maria winced as she tried to pull her arm free of Nick's grip, but he only held on tighter, twisting her arm.

"Nick, you're hurting me!"

"You alright there, Maria?"

Nick dropped Maria's arm and looked across the road to Carla, who had had stopped and was staring at them with concern.

"We're fine, Carla," Nick replied calmly, a placid smile on his face. "It's chilly out today, isn't it?"

"Hmm…" Still suspicious, Carla started walking towards them. "Maria? You okay?"

"Yeah," Maria nodded. "Where are you off to?"

"I was actually coming to see you, I –"

"I'll come with you now then, yeah?"

"Yeah, sure."

Maria made to walk away from Nick, but he stepped in front of her, blocking her path.

"We're not finished," he muttered coldly.

"Yes, we are."

"Maria?" Carla held her hand out to Maria who pushed past Nick and grabbed onto Carla's hand as if she were a life raft, her last hope of survival. "Are you sure you're okay, Maria?" Carla asked her with genuine concern as they hurried away from a glowering Nick. "You're shivering."

"I'm sure," Maria reassured her. "I'm cold is all. Let's get out of here, yeah?"

Nick watched as Maria made her escape. This conversation was meant to put his mind at rest, but it had done the exact opposite; it had raised questions he never knew needed to be asked. As to what the answers were, only Maria knew that.

Feeling his phone vibrating in his pocket, he pulled it out; it was Leanne.

"Leanne," Nick's voice immediately softened.

"Nick?" Leanne's voice however was filled with concern. "Where are you? Your mum said you just took off."

"Sorry, I umm… I had some business I'd completely forgotten about."

"Business?" Leanne asked incredulously. "Nick, it's Christmas Day. Surely business can wait!?"

"Leanne, I'm the boss remember?"

"Yeah, but –"

"It doesn't matter, I'm finished with it," Nick hastened to placate her. "I'm coming now."

"Are you alright, Nick?"

"Yes," Nick said with a calm certainty he didn't feel.

"Okay, well, I'll see you soon."

"Leanne?"

"What is it?"

"I just…" Nick faltered. "I wanted to say, I love you."

"I love you too, you daft beggar," Leanne replied with a laugh. "Now, come home okay?"

Nick's smile as he hung up the phone quickly dissipated, only to be replaced by an anxious frown. Whatever happened, whatever threats Maria made, he knew he had to protect his family with Leanne at all costs. They were the most important things to him. He would do anything – anything – to protect their life together. With his mind resolved, Nick strode out of the community garden, putting out of his mind Maria's vague threats. Or so he thought.

* * *

_Author: thelocalknickermerchant_


	7. Chapter 7

"Thanks for coming!" Michelle said, planting a light kiss on Johnny's cheek.

"Merrrry Chrish-mas, Mee-chelle!" Jenny chimed drunkenly, thrusting a coat towards Johnny and practically falling on top of him in the process. Johnny rolled his eyes, flashing Michelle a smile. Tucking an arm around his wife's waist, he led her towards the Bistro exit, calling out his goodbyes and well wishes as he went. Michelle chuckled, her curls bouncing as she shook her head. She didn't envy him; it would be one hell of a challenge trying to get Jenny home, but one that Johnny had seemingly accomplished many times before.

Michelle reached for the glass she had abandoned on the bar. Upon noting its lack of contents, she took it upon herself to retrieve another bottle of Riocca from behind the bar. She shuffled past the table where Ali and Ryan remained sat, competitively trying to solve a Christmas cracker puzzle, before noticing Carla hunched over a pad of paper at the far end of the table. Momentarily forgetting the task at hand, she made a diversion in her friend's direction.

"What are you doing, babe?" she questioned her casually, planting herself in the spare seat beside Carla, who visibly startled at her sudden presence.

"You made me jump," she gasped breathlessly, placing a hand on her chest. Michelle laughed.

"Sorry, drama queen," she teased. Carla smiled, discreetly tucking the notepad in her lap beneath the table, a movement that didn't go unnoticed by Michelle. "What are you hiding? Love letters to your boyfriend, ey?" she joked. The last thing Michelle wanted was to be accused of sticking her nose in. She knew from bitter experience how Carla hated being watched but, after her conversation with Peter earlier, she couldn't help but worry.

"Oh, you think you're so funny, don't you?" Carla rolled her eyes playfully. Michelle flashed her a grin.

"Can I get you anything? A drink? More pudding?" Michelle pushed, but Carla shook her head, she'd had more than enough.

"I've already gone up a dress size from one portion, I don't think I could physically fit anymore in," she laughed. "Besides, I thought you were finished playing hostess?"

The sound of the Bistro door creaking open drew their attention. Michelle's face hardened as she noticed Maria sheepishly enter the room.

"Ey up, the entertainment's arrived..." Michelle breathed. She expected some sort of acknowledgement from Carla, perhaps a laugh or a stifled giggle. She glanced at her, noticing her eyes narrowing in Maria's direction. As Maria cleared her throat, Michelle rose from her seat.

"Ali, can I speak to you?" Maria asked. "In private."

"That depends on whether you're gonna bite his head off again," Michelle stated coldly, folding her arms across her chest. Maria sighed.

"Look I'm really sorry about yesterday. I was really drunk. I shouldn't have said any of the things that I did..." As she spoke, her eyes drifted in Carla's direction. Before Michelle could comment, Ali got his word in.

"Five minutes," he said. "In the office."

"Ali-" Michelle began, but he quickly shook his head, effectively silencing her.

"Mum, I deserve an apology, if nothing else," he explained. Michelle nodded reluctantly, tight lipped.

Ali rose from his seat, heading straight for the office. Maria followed, eyes trained on the ground. As she passed, Michelle grabbed her wrist.

"As soon as you two are done, I want a word." She hissed. Maria nodded, not daring to look her in the eye. Michelle let her hand drop, and watched as Maria crept into the office.

Taking a deep breath, Michelle sank into her seat beside Carla once again.

"Did you manage to catch her earlier?" she asked, realising that Carla had snuck in without a single word on the subject.

"You what?" Carla questioned, seemingly coming round from some deep trail of thought.

"Peter said you'd gone to find her before you came in. Did she have anything to say?"

Carla shrugged, nonchalantly. "Not really..." She brushed it off, trying to push the heated scene she'd witnessed between Nick and Maria merely hours earlier to the back of her mind.

"Well, she could have apologised, at least." Michelle huffed, snatching her glass from the table. "That's the least we deserve, after the way she went off last night."

Carla nodded, slowly. "Yeah..." She mumbled.

"You never know, we could still get fireworks today. And let me tell you, if she's messed him about, I won't be holding back..." Michelle stated, nodding towards the office door.

"I'm sure it'll be fine." Carla sighed, resting her hand gently on her friends leg and rubbing it reassuringly.

"I hope you're right. For all our sakes..."

* * *

Michelle drained the last dregs of Riocca from her glass, eyes trained on the closed door of the office. Five minutes, they'd agreed. It was coming up to twenty, and Michelle was fighting the urge to burst in and give Maria what for. She took a deep breath, refilling her glass with what was left of the wine in the bottle.

"Chelle, you need to relax," Peter said, sensing her heightened overprotective instincts. "They're adults. There's been no screaming, or crying, or plate smashing, which makes a nice change, so I'm sure they're fine." She shot him a steely look.

"I think the plates are still a sore point, babe..." Carla whispered, having leant in closer to him. She stroked his arm gently, a teasing smile pressed into her lips.

"Damn right they are!" Michelle began as Carla rolled her eyes playfully in Peter's direction. "Forty quid a set they cost me! And I'm still finding bits under the tables. Ruined the hoover and all!"

She let out a huff and crossed her arms against her chest. Leaning back into her chair, her eyes fell once again upon the closed door of the office.

"This is getting ridiculous..." She muttered, resting a hand over her mouth. With each passing minute, she felt more uneasy. Who knew what they could be talking about? She wasn't sure what result she wanted more; for the pair to make up and get back together, or for them to have argued and gone their separate ways for good.

The sound of the door being pushed open drew the attention of the room. Michelle jumped up from her seat. As Ali and Maria emerged from the office, grinning, her heart sank.

Ali cleared his throat, taking Maria's hand and offering a smile.

"Erm, Maria and I have decided to give it another go," he explained. Whilst mutters of approval waved through the room, Michelle remained stony faced. As the happy couple returned to the table, accepting congratulations, she returned to the bar, reaching for another bottle of red.

She watched as the liquid glugged into the glass, sliding down the sides before settling in the bottom. As she turned back towards the room, she found herself face to face with Maria.

"You wanted a word?" she recalled, shifting nervously. Michelle took a sip, before placing her glass on the countertop.

"Er, yeah. Listen, for all I know, you could have sorted this out already. But, I just need to ask-"

"Is this about Carla? Look, Michelle, I-"

"What? No, this is about Ali. I just need to know. Did you... Did you cheat on him, at all? At any point when you were together?"

Maria sighed indignantly. "Of course not! Why would you think that?"

"It's just that..." Michelle paused, searching for a way to go about this without dropping Ali in it. "Well, you and Gary got together pretty quickly after you and Ali separated. I'm just wondering if..."

"If what, Michelle?" Maria demanded, folding her arms, her irritation levels suddenly sky high.

"If maybe there was an... overlap? You know, you seeing both of them to try and decide-"

"Michelle! What do you take me for? Of course not!" Maria exclaimed, visibly hurt. "I get that you're paranoid, what with everything that's happened between you and Robert, but-"

"This has nothing to do with Robert!"

"But that doesn't mean everyone is a cheat. I would never do that to Ali!"

Michelle took a step closer to Maria, lowering her voice.

"You better be sure about that. Because if I ever find out that you've gone behind his back..."

"Are you threatening me, Michelle?"

"Threatening? No. Just giving you some friendly advice."

Maria took a deep breath and declared, "I would never cheat on Ali."

Michelle took a step back, planting a false smile on her face. "Good. Well, I'm glad we're on the same page."

"Me too," Maria agreed, spinning around to return to the table. Before she could go, Michelle caught her arm.

"Oh, Maria?"

"Yes?"

"What did you mean? About Carla?" She questioned, her eyebrows knitted together in confusion. "Did something happen earlier? She said you two had a run in-"

"Earlier? Oh, no," Maria let out an awkward laugh. "It were last night, after I'd left here. She came over to the flat. Don't worry, it was nothing; just a few crossed wires is all. I was drunk. I'll speak to her about it later."

Michelle raised an eyebrow. "Oh, really? She never mentioned it."

"That's because it wasn't important. Like I said, I was drunk."

"Right... Well, as long as you're sure..."

"I am. Oh, and, for what it's worth, I'm really sorry about how I behaved in here last night, and for all the things I said."

"Its already forgotten." Michelle smiled lightly, "but next time you want to have a domestic, can you please leave my crockery out of it?"

Maria nodded, letting out a short laugh, before swiftly rejoining Ali at the table.

Michelle remained where she was, picking up her glass once more and taking a long, drawn out sip. Her eyes fell upon Carla and Peter, giggling over something on Peter's phone, arms round one another; then onto Ali and Maria, who were making small talk with Ryan and Alya. She let out a sigh. Perhaps Maria was right. Maybe she was just paranoid because of everything Robert had done. She hoped to God that was all it was.

The one thing she was certain of, as she stood alone, watching the couples around her with disdain, was that she had never felt more single.

* * *

_Author: bananabreakdowns _


	8. Chapter 8

_**December 27th 2019**_

"There you are," Ken placed a mug of coffee in front of Carla and took a seat across from her as she tucked her notepad onto her lap.

"Ta, Ken," she yawned, holding the mug between her palms and smiling.

"Did you not get any sleep at all last night?" he asked kindly.

"I just get a bit of insomnia sometimes," she shrugged off his concern. "I'll be fine."

"Well, if at some point you do feel like putting your head down, you're more than welcome to use Peter's room."

"Thanks Ken, I'll bear it in mind," she replied as she took a sip of her coffee. "What are your plans for today?"

"Well, I'm going to take Eccles for a walk around the Red Rec shortly, and I may meet Claudia in the pub for a drink afterwards."

"And you still don't mind me using your kitchen table for all this beard oil prep while you're out?"

"Not at all," Ken chuckled. "I'm just happy to help out in any way I can. Speaking of which, how can I help?"

"Well, this order is for twenty-five bottles of the 'Manly Mint' blend. So, if you could help me get everything in some semblance of an assembly line, then I should be able to mix it all up pretty quickly."

"Certainly, what are the ingredients?"

"Errm," Carla rifled through her papers, keeping her notepad tucked safely underneath them. "Jojoba oil, sweet almond oil, peppermint essential oil and sweet orange essential oil."

"That sounds quite refreshing," Ken looked through the jars she had diligently organised into neatly labeled boxes. "Peter used to be quite fond of peppermint. Does he like this one particularly?"

Carla chuckled. "Your son prefers a special, original blend that I created just for him... coconut oil, shea butter, almond oil, vanilla and tobacco," she smiled fondly to herself. "He says it reminds him of when we were sailing the Caribbean together. Made me promise to never sell it to anyone else."

"Ah, well that's lovely."

Ten minutes later saw Ken affixing the last of the 'Manly Mint' labels to the empty bottles.

"Right," Ken took his coat off the chair. "I'm going to take Eccles out for a quick walk, unless you need anything else doing?"

Carla shook her head. "Thanks, Ken, but I think I have it from here. Enjoy your walk and-" she glanced up at him and straightened up to her full height. "Is that the coat you're going to wear?"

"Yes," Ken turned the item over in his hands. "Why?"

Carla put her hands on her hips. "Ken! You can't go out in that!"

"Why? What's wrong with it?"

"Well, it's hardly warm is it?"

Ken frowned. "It's warm enough..."

"Come on! Give it 'ere." She held out her hand and smirked in amusement as he held it closer to his chest. "Well it's obvious who Peter inherited his stubbornness from," she mumbled. "Ken, could you please humour me and put on that winter coat of yours that's hanging out front?"

"But I can wear a scarf with this one..."

"Don't make me call Claudia, Kenneth."

"Alright, alright, you win!" he acquiesced and handed her the coat in surrender.

"Good man," Carla smiled in triumph. "Sorry Ken, but I don't want to see you back in hospital, none of us do."

"I understand, and thank you." As Ken moved to put the lead on Eccles, the doorbell rang. Casting a puzzled look to Carla, he headed into the foyer and opened the front door.

"Hi Ken," Maria greeted him, "Sorry to disturb you, but I'm looking for Carla. Roy said she was here."

"Oh, yes she certainly is! Go on through." He stepped aside and gestured for her to pass. "Be back soon, Carla!" he called out as he put on his big winter coat and exited number one.

"Hiya," Maria greeted Carla chirpily as she entered the main kitchen-living area of the Barlow home, shoving her fidgeting hands into her jacket pockets.

"Oh, hiya love," Carla smiled in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, umm, I just wanted to come by you know, and apologise properly for Christmas Eve."

"Oh," Carla put a hand on her hip and rested against one of the dining room chairs. "You didn't have to make a special trip out for that."

"Yeah I know I could've just called or messaged, but I were out and about anyway and thought I'd stop in," Maria shuffled nervously from foot to foot.

Carla folded her arms across her body, her eyebrow raised as she scrutinised the younger woman. "Are you alright, Maria?"

"How'd you mean?"

"Well, no offence, love, but you're looking a bit green. Want me to make you a brew?"

"Yeah, go on then," Maria sighed as she watched Carla walk to the kitchen bench and refill the kettle. "Look Carla, I'm just really embarrassed by everything that happened that night. I mean, I don't normally get that bladdered, do I? And I reckon I may have got maybe a little bit messy."

"Well, you certainly were gripping onto that Prosecco bottle like it were a lifeline," Carla smirked at her, as she walked back to the kitchen table. "But hey, we've all been there haven't we?"

"Oh God," Maria put her hands on either side of her head. "I just... I hope I wasn't too much of a nightmare for you? I didn't, I dunno, throw up on you or 'owt, did I?"

"I'm not gonna lie to you, but it were touch and go there for a while..." Carla laughed. "Honestly Maria, you didn't do anything we 'aven't all done at some point or other."

"Well, that's good to hear. Cause our Kirk always tells me how when I'm drunk I start saying these really random things. You know, making up stories and stuff, remembering things wrong..." Maria shrugged off her coat and placed it on the back of one of the dining room chairs, all the while keeping her gaze focused on Carla. "I hope I weren't mouthing off too much? Making stuff up?"

"Like what?"

"Oh I don't know," Maria shrugged. "I mean, I don't remember much after the Bistro, if I'm honest. Whole night's a bit of a blur."

"Well, I wouldn't say you were 'mouthing off', per se..."

"Oh, good," Maria deflected. "I mean I wouldn't want you to misunderstand anything I may have said in that state. That's another reason why I popped 'round. I wanted to make sure you were okay an' all..."

"Me?" Carla asked curiously. "I'm fine. Why?"

"Well, it's just, you haven't seemed yourself lately, is all."

"Haven't I?"

"You've seemed, I dunno... distracted?"

Carla slowly poured a measured amount of sweet almond oil through a funnel into one of the prepped bottles. "And why would that be?"

"Are you going to respond to everything I say with a question?" Maria placed her hands on her hips defensively.

Carla smirked. "Well if you insist on being evasive..."

"Okay, look," Maria sat down in the chair previously occupied by Ken. "You just seemed a bit out of sorts, you know, after what happened on Christmas Eve. And I assumed we must have had a misunderstanding at the flat. I just wanted to make sure we were okay is all."

"I'm sorry Maria, but I don't follow," Carla stated carefully. "What misunderstanding are you referring to?"

"Well, it's just that I vaguely recall..." Maria swallowed tepidly, "talking about Liam..."

Carla continued to pour the oil into the next bottle. "You did, yeah."

"Well, wha-what did I say exactly?" Maria fidgeted with the bottles of essential oils next to her.

Carla pursed her lips. "You were in a pretty depressive state by the time I managed to pry the bubbly out your hands, and I were worried by some of the things you were sayin'. You seemed so... hopeless. I simply told you to think of your son; that he needs you to be strong, because he's already lost his dad."

"And that's all I said? About Liam?"

Carla didn't remove her gaze from Maria's. "What else would there be to say?"

"I dunno," Maria swallowed hard under the scrutiny of that oh-so-familiar gaze. "Nothing, I suppose."

Carla's lips slowly tugged upwards into a knowing smile. "Yeah, I s'pose not." She continued carefully pouring the oil in through the funnel. "So, you and Gary got into quite the heated confrontation the other night. I tell you what, Chelle weren't too impressed about them plates you were flinging about. But I suppose it was either some smashed crockery or Windass's face, eh?" They both chuckled. "You wanna tell me what that were all about, or should I have a guess?"

"Ali..." Maria confessed with a sigh.

"I thought as much," Carla took the bottle of sweet orange essential oil and began adding drops to each bottle.

Maria shifted slightly, opening a bottle of essential oil and smelling it absently. "When I started smashing things up it's because Gary had accused me of only wanting Ali because he reminded me of Liam." She replaced the bottle back in the box and pulled out another. "I dunno, I guess it affected me more than I thought..."

"Well it clearly did," Carla pushed the point. "I think maybe you need to figure out why."

"Well it's the guilt innit? 'Bout how everything turned out with Liam..."

"In what way?"

"Not having a chance to be a dad..." Maria mumbled. "You know, having died before our son was born, I mean," she added as Carla's eyes narrowed. "So... are we okay, then?"

"Of course," Carla reassured her as she replaced the stopper on the essential oil bottle and placed it back in her assembly line. "Like you said, it were just a misunderstanding, right?" She smiled before heading back to the kitchen bench to make the tea.

Maria exhaled a shaky breath. Carla may have seemed satisfied, but Maria knew she was like a dog with a bone when she put her mind to finding something out, and her bending this quickly to her explanations was not fooling her in the slightest. Maria raised yet another bottle of essential oil to her nose and breathed in deeply, only to sputter at the strength of the oil within the bottle.

"So, how are you enjoying the career change?" Maria asked tepidly, her face scrunched up in reaction to the potent oil in her hands.

"Yeah, I mean, it's definitely been an adjustment," Carla admitted. "But a welcome one."

"I can imagine. And I mean, at least with this beard oil business, you don't have to be in the factory anymore. You know, in the place where Rana died, with that guilt constantly hanging over you."

Carla paused for a brief moment as she poured the water from the kettle into the teapot, a shiver running down her spine. "Umm... yeah, I suppose..."

"Honestly though, Carla, you've come such a long way since that awful time. I can't imagine what that must have been like for you. It must've been like a horror movie, a living nightmare."

"Yeah..." Carla whispered, her eyes focusing just beyond the window ahead of her as her mind began racing.

"Everyone thinking the worst of you..."

_'You're a murdering bitch...'_

"Then to lose all sense of reality..."

'_You know I am. You killed me.'_

Carla shook her head violently, trying in vain to shake from her memory the images that flashed before her and the voices that echoed in her mind. Picking up the teapot she carried it to the table, watching as Maria removed her purse off of the table, while opening yet another bottle of essential oil to smell.

"Yeah, well, it's an ongoing process, innit?" She cleared her throat, heading back to the bench and grabbing two mugs from the overhead cabinet and milk from the fridge. Placing them on the table she then rubbed her palms along the front of her jeans, desperately trying to quell the trembling that was threatening to overtake them.

"Oh Carla, I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have brought it up."

"S'okay," Carla waved her off with a weak smile.

"No it isn't! What am I like?"

"Honestly, it's fine, Maria. It happened, didn't it? I just have to live with it."

Maria eyed her sadly. She knew she had to do whatever was necessary to protect herself, and yet she still despised triggering Carla's guilt over the roof collapse and Rana's death so callously,... "Here, why don't you keep on with the beard oil and I'll fix us a brew."

Carla ran a hand through her hair and exhaled. "Thanks," she smiled back, taking the bottle of peppermint essential oil from its place and adding the instructed helping to each bottle.

* * *

Peter quickly exited his cab outside of Streetcars and made a beeline for the cafe. As he rushed around the corner, passing the few punters that still remained inside, his eyes landed on the woman behind the counter.

"Oh, uhh, go on through, Peter," Aggie kindly gestured towards the flat door.

"It's about time you showed up!" a familiar voice shrilled from across the cafe. Peter stopped in front of the flat entrance and turned to see Beth and a rather ashen-faced Kirk leaning on the counter.

"What?"

"Your girlfriend," Beth sneered. "She's started to go all doolally again!" She circled her finger near her temple for emphasis.

"Oi!" Peter stalked towards them. "There's no need for that, alright!"

"Beth stop-" Kirk begged her, drawing Peter's attention to the rash-like redness that was spread along the lower half of his face.

"Kirk, what's happened to your face?" Peter asked as curiosity got the better of him.

"Your useless girlfriend is what happened!" Beth snapped irritably. "She ought to be locked up again in that mental ward, this time with the key thrown away-"

"Now, that's quite enough!" Aggie warned sharply, shaking a wooden spoon at her. "Any more talk like that and you can sling your hook!"

"It wasn't like that Beth," Kirk spoke up in defence of Carla. "You know Mrs Connor didn't do it on purpose, it were an accident!"

"Will someone tell me what the hell is going on!" Peter shouted in agitation.

"It was the beard oil Mrs Connor was making-" Kirk began to explain only to be caught off by Beth as she grabbed the two takeaway coffees Aggie had placed on the countertop.

"No, you know what? Go and ask her yourself! Come on Kirky, let's go and put on this lotion Dr Gaddas prescribed for you." She gently pushed Kirk towards the exit before spinning on her heel and coming up to stand directly in front of Peter. "And while you're up there," she gritted out in a low voice. "You tell her that this had better be the last time she messes up our Sinead's business. Or else!"

Peter watched the couple leave the cafe, his blood boiling beneath the surface before turning back to the counter.

"Ignore her. It's a simple skin irritation," Aggie said reassuringly. "Dr Gaddas wouldn't have prescribed anything stronger than an over-the-counter hydrocortisone cream. Beth, she's just being dramatic."

"Thanks Aggie," Peter nodded before heading back to the flat's entrance and up the stairs where he was greeted by Roy.

"How is she?" he asked as he looked looked about the empty living room, "I came back from dropping off me fare as quick as I could when my dad called."

Roy beckoned Peter into the kitchen before he could enter. "She's calmer now then when she first arrived back with Ken. We managed to convince her to take her anxiety medication, and that seems to have helped somewhat. She's changing in her room right now; she has only just got out of the shower."

"I just got an earful from Beth downstairs," Peter stood with his hands on his hips, his eyes glancing towards the bedroom door. "Something about the beard oil, but she was being evasive as usual. I don't understand, what the hell happened?"

"Well, according to your father, app-apparently Carla was preparing an order of beard oil and mixed the formula incorrectly."

"That's not like her. She's always been so diligent with making sure everything is 'just so' when it comes to making this beard oil. She doesn't want to chance anything going wrong when it comes to Bertie's inheritance. How did she mess it up?"

"Well Ken did say she seemed rather distracted today. She inadvertently used tea tree essential oil instead of peppermint. They have a similar scent you see, but tea tree can be particularly potent if not diluted properly. She was none the wiser, until Kirk and Beth came in that is. Kirk had asked to try a bit of it out, and it ended up causing an irritation almost immediately. Beth as you can imagine was, well...very Beth."

"Yeah, well if she was even a quarter of what she was downstairs, I can only imagine what she must have said to Carla."

"I-I don't think you can to be honest," Roy sat down at the kitchen table and gestured for Peter to do the same. "She gave her quite the earful. Accused her of purposely trying to ruin Sinead's memory. And though your father was on hand at the time to defend Carla, it didn't do much good. Beth said she wasn't in a fit state to be running any type of business and accused her of being negligent...again. Reminding her that her last act of carelessness ended with Rana's death."

Peter exhaled and placed both elbows onto the table, allowing his head to fall into his hands. "Oh no..."

"I'm afraid so. Needless to say, Carla came back here in quite a state.. She-she was so sure she had the peppermint oil with her but we only managed to find an unopened bottle in the new supplies. As you can imagine, she has been quite hard on herself. Edgy, panicky, guilt-ridden. But she finally agreed to take her anxiety medication and that seems to have curtailed a possible panic attack, or worse."

"Well, thank God for that." Peter breathed out.

"There is something else however, th-that I think you need to see," Roy stood up from the table, lifting up a stack of papers from the coffee table and pulling out a notepad from underneath. "I found this, amongst the boxes she and Ken brought back from number one, while she was in the shower."

Peter joined Roy in the living room and, taking the small pad from the cafe owner's outstretched hand, he flipped through the book, noticing Carla's handwriting scrawled over multiple pages.

It was nothing short of a chaotic mess. Words scribbled in all directions on the small pages; incomplete sentences and thoughts; multiple October 2008 dates circled and affixed with question marks. It was as if she was trying to solve some detailed maths equation, and it threw Peter back several months prior to when Carla's psychosis had really begun to take hold; when she had furiously written notes and clues all over the daily crosswords. He felt his own panic begin to rise as his eyes scanned the pages in his hands at the horrifying thought that she could possibly be relapsing after having made such positive progress since Carlisle.

"Do you have any idea what it might be referring to?" Roy asked.

Carla's bedroom door opened and Peter quickly thrust the notepad back under the sheets of paper on the coffee table as she emerged and padded slowly into the main room.

"Hey love," he smiled at her, opening his arms and encompassing her docile body into his embrace. "I heard what happened. You okay?

"No," she whispered, sitting next to him on the sofa.

"Carla, it was just a mistake, it can happen to anyone."

"But it didn't happen to anyone, Peter, it happened to me," she mumbled, her eyes focused on her hands. "I checked those supplies three times before Ken and I got them all set up. I'm sure I checked them. I could've sworn it was peppermint... It had to be peppermint. But it wasn't. It wasn't even in the box I brought to your dad's at all."

"It-it is an easy mistake to make Carla," Roy chimed in as he sat in his armchair. "They have a very similar scent-"

"No, I were careful to put a green dot on the peppermint bottle. Or at least I thought I did. But there's no bottle in there that has a green dot," she raised a hand to her head and rubbed her forehead despairingly. "You do realise that, if that order had been filled, it could have ended the business."

"Hey," Peter tipped her chin up with his forefinger and thumb. "Carla, there's no guarantee that it would have irritated everybody who tried it. Kirk could just have sensitive skin or something."

"I would have tarnished Sinead's memory, ruined Bertie's inheritance..."

"Carla, you're being too hard on yourself. Look, we can still fix that batch and market it as a different fragrance; we can dilute it with some more carrier oil to be on the safe side, and I'll test it out..."

"I could have killed someone Peter...again..."

"What?" Peter's brow furrowed. "Carla, no. Come on, all it would have done was cause, at most, a skin irritation."

"Pe-Peter's right, Carla," Roy stated softly. "You're being far too hard on yourself."

Carla lifted her tear-filled eyes and gazed into his concerned ones. "No, I was negligent again," she whispered. "Beth were right. They all were..."

"Who was?" Peter prodded her curiously, but Carla just shook her head.

"I could almost hear Rana's voice in my head...Kate's...taunting me, accusing me... I'm scared, Peter," she exhaled shakily. "I'm scared it's going to happen to me again..."

"Oh love," he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer to him, his hand cradling her head against his shoulder. "Shhh, it's okay," he cooed as she curled into his neck. "It's all gonna be okay."

"Why don't I make us all a brew," Roy offered. "And we can talk all this through?"

But Carla shook her head and pulled back from Peter. "No," she sniffled, running the back of her hand along her wet cheeks. "I think we need to call Scott..."

* * *

_Author: dipdipdipmyblueship_


	9. Chapter 9

_**December 28th 2019**_

Michelle sauntered into the Rovers, her eyes immediately falling onto a crestfallen Peter at the end of the bar, hunched over and deep in conversation with Leanne. "Hiya Johnny, can you break a few notes for us?" she asked the landlord. "We're running low on change."

"Sure love, gimme a minute. Leanne? What can I get you?"

"Oh, a large glass of white, Johnny, ta!"

"Sure thing. Grab a seat and I'll bring it over," Johnny nodded, taking the notes from Michelle's hand and heading to the back of the bar.

"So come on then," Leanne prodded Peter as Johnny dipped out of earshot. "How is she? Really?"

"Not good if I'm honest Lea," Peter shook his head as he raised his hand and rubbed his neatly trimmed beard. "I mean, nowhere near as bad as she was earlier this year but, she's not good."

"Who? Carla?" Michelle sidled up next to Peter. At his nod, her brows furrowed. "Why? What's happened? I knew she were a bit off on Christmas Day, but when I texted her yesterday about it she just said she were under the weather."

Peter glanced to the bar, keeping an eye out for Johnny. "Yeah, and as far as Johnny's concerned that's the story we're sticking to. She doesn't want to worry him. And to be honest Michelle, I would prefer if you didn't mention what I'm about to tell you to her either as I don't want her feeling overwhelmed."

Michelle nodded, a sense of dread falling over her. "She hasn't relapsed, has she?"

Peter shook his head. "No, she were able to catch herself slipping back into this paranoid state and insisted we call Scott. He's over there with her now, talking her through it. But it were close to getting there. She was," he motioned with his fingers, "writing things out again. Becoming fixated on it. A bunch of jumbled words that didn't make sense, all sort of scribbled out. Like she were trying to solve some elaborate maths equation."

Leanne exhaled. "Well, I mean at least she was able to recognise those symptoms this time, eh?" Leanne placed a comforting hand on Peter's shoulder. "She's taking the right steps to get help. That's gotta be a good sign, right?"

"Yeah, but what if she didn't?" Peter whispered fearfully.

"Oh, Peter, you can't think like that. Carla's been really focused on making her mental health a priority since she got back from Carlisle. She's not going to let herself get to that stage again if she can help it."

"What triggered it?" Michelle asked quietly.

"Something Maria said to her on Christmas Eve," Peter answered evasively.

"What did she say?"

"Here you go Michelle," Johnny handed her a few rolls of coins and then placed Leanne's wine in front of her. "Sorry for the wait, Leanne."

"Oh, it's no problem," Leanne reassured him as she handed over some cash. "Keep the change."

"Ah, cheers. Hi Kev!" Johnny greeted the mechanic as he walked into the pub with Abi. "What can I get you?"

Peter suddenly shifted nervously, his voice barely above a whisper. "Look, I don't think I should go into details, okay? I don't want her thinking we're all talking about her. Not after the Whatsapp fiasco."

"Peter," Michelle glanced over her shoulder, ensuring Johnny was busy with the punters, before lowering her voice as well. "I get that okay, I do. But if you tell me what's going on, I might be able to help. I promise I won't say anything to Carla, but, please, Peter, let me help."

"She's right," Leanne agreed.

"Fine," Peter breathed out, his eyes darting around him nervously to ensure no one else could hear. "Maria was rambling on when she were drunk on Christmas Eve and, from what Carla could gather, it had to do with Liam. Your brother, Liam."

"What about him?"

"Long story short, Carla's got it into her head that Liam, your Liam, isn't little Liam's dad."

"That's ridiculous!" Michelle scoffed. "Of course Liam is that lad's father. And I resent the implication that he's not."

"I'm sorry, Michelle," Peter said, attempting to placate her. "I don't want to upset you. I'm just telling you what Carla believes to be true."

"No," Michelle shook her head, still deep in denial. "I won't believe it. I mean, Maria was completely bladdered that night and, don't get me wrong, I've got a lot of love for the girl, but... she's not exactly the sharpest tool in the shed when she's sober, let alone drunk, is she? She must've meant summat else. Carla misunderstood her."

"That's what I thought at first," Peter said. "After all, Liam has always been a sore spot for her..."

"But you don't anymore?" Leanne asked, her curiosity piqued. "Why?"

Peter turned to face Leanne. "At first I thought exactly like Michelle, no way could it be true, Maria was just on one that night, you can't trust anything she says. But Carla... for some reason, Carla believes it to be the truth. One hundred per cent the truth. And now she's become so single-minded with trying to uncover the truth she's started to neglect everything else. According to Roy, she's not sleeping, and you know she messed up that beard oil order. It's not like her. I can tell it's tearing her up inside. So much so that, I dunno... I'm starting to wonder, is there any truth to it?"

"To be fair, Peter, she were also convinced that Rana was alive," Michelle said softly. "All this, it might just be some lingering guilt over Liam coming to the forefront which, you know her psychologist did say, could happen during her recovery."

"Well, I can understand why," Leanne chimed in as she took a sip of her wine. "Finding out or even thinking that Liam Jr. isn't Liam's could destroy Carla."

"I don't understand," Michelle said, leaning forward in her curiosity, wanting to hear more. "Why would that be so devastating to Carla?"

Leanne slowly lowered her drink, her eyes locked on Michelle's. "You know what? Forget it. I'm just talking nonsense."

"Oh no, no, no!" Michelle wagged her finger at her. "No, you're not fooling me, Battersby. I know you two aren't the best of mates these days but, back in the day, you and Carla were thick as thieves. No, you know something. And I wanna know what it is, right now."

Leanne glanced awkwardly from Michelle to Peter. "Okay, but let's sit down. You may need a drink for this."

Michelle tapped her fingers on the bar, raising her eyebrow suspiciously before nodding in agreement. "Johnny?" she called out, "can I have a glass of red please?"

"Coming up!"

"I'm just going to ask Ryan to hold the fort, be back in a tick," Michelle pulled out her mobile and moved towards the toilets.

"How much do you know?" Leanne whispered to Peter as they slid into a nearby booth.

"I know that Carla changed her mind about running away with Liam the night he were killed," Peter shrugged. "Told me she got cold feet and couldn't go through with it. Next thing she knew, they got the call from Steve that Liam had been in an accident. I always assumed there was more to it than that, but I never pushed her for more information. I'm right though, aren't I? There was more to it..."

She nodded as Michelle slid in next to Peter in the booth, wine in hand. "Okay," she raised her eyebrows towards Leanne. "Spill."

"Right... You know how Liam had been messaging and calling Carla on her hen do? Well, they weren't just sneaking around trying to cover their affair. He had been trying to convince her that it was her that he loved, not Maria, but she wasn't convinced. He wouldn't let up though; he just kept calling..."

Peter looked down at his orange juice, listening intently as Leanne gave Michelle a detailed account of the night eleven years earlier when Liam was killed. He had known that Carla had given up her chance at happiness with Liam, but he never knew the full details of that night. Her reaction to Maria's alleged confession was now beginning to make complete sense to him, and he felt a pang of guilt for not seeing just how much inner turmoil she must have been experiencing since Christmas Eve.

"And that's how I know that if she found out that Liam Jr wasn't actually his, it would destroy her. Not just 'cause she gave up her chance at happiness and love for Maria and that little lad that night, but because of what she had to do to convince him to let her go."

"What?" Michelle asked, suddenly uneasy. "What did she do?"

"She lied and told him that she didn't love him. She's never forgiven herself for that."

"I-I don't understand," Michelle whispered. "After all these years, after all we've been through, why didn't she tell me?"

"No offence, Michelle, you might be close now but, back then was a whole other story."

"Excuse me?" Michelle hissed defensively. "What the hell do you know about mine and Carla's friendship? I've always stood by her-"

"Oh, give me a break!" Leanne scowled. "You blamed her for Liam's death! Accused her of being in on it with Tony, of being the reason he was killed in the first place-"

"I was grieving! I were confused. You know what it looked like, her running away to LA after his big confession."

"And is it any wonder why she ran? Eh?" Leanne gritted out, her jaw tense to ensure she kept her voice low. "Tony had just admitted that he'd had her lover killed, and felt no remorse for it. He said he would do it all over again if it meant he won her in the end. She were terrified of what he was capable of. You do know he hired that Jimmy guy, the one who ran Liam over, to kill her when she came back. And yet you and Ryan still publicly disowned her. So don't act like you were always there for her, because when Tony escaped from prison and she were tied to a chair at gunpoint, you still wanted nowt to do with her! Once Maria were safe, you didn't give a toss about Carla still being in there with that psycho. Nearly burned alive in that place and you didn't care!"

"Alright, I admit it weren't our finest time, okay? But we did bury the hatchet eventually. So why didn't she tell me then?"

"Think she had a bit more going on in her personal life to worry about, don't you?" Peter chimed in.

"Did you know about this?" Michelle asked him.

"Not in detail, no," Peter shook his head. "It makes sense though now, why she was so distraught after seeing Maria."

"Look, Maria was six sheets to the wind on Christmas Eve, alright? I mean is it any wonder? Hooking up with Gary Windass?" Leanne stated bitterly. "She probably didn't even know what she were saying to be honest."

"Maria did get under everyone's skin that night," Michelle agreed. "I mean, Ali was convinced she had cheated on him." Michelle scowled as she took a sip of her wine. "Maybe that's where her guilt is coming from..."

"Well she does have form, no matter how much of a goody-two shoes act she puts on," Leanne muttered. "I mean, she hooked up with our Toyah's boyfriend, John; she had an affair with Charlie Stubbs; she cheated on Jason with Marcus; tried to split up Tyrone and Fiz; cheated on Luke with Aidan... I mean, I know you were all 'Team Maria' back then Michelle, but would it really be that surprising if she _had_ cheated on Liam?"

"We'll probably never find out the truth about that. It's too far in the past now. But what if Ali's suspicions were right? What if all the things she said to Carla went back to her guilt over cheating on Ali?"

"It's possible, I guess," Peter nodded. "We should look at Gary -"

"No," Michelle interjected. "It can't have been with Gary because he was with Ryan at the time and not in the barbers."

"Barbers?" Leanne looked up curiously. "You mean Trim Up North?"

"Yeah, apparently Ali had gone there looking for her. Said the door was locked and he was convinced she was in there with another man..."

"What day was this?" Leanne's heart began to race.

"End of September. The day after the big party at number three..."

* * *

**_September 27th 2019_**

_"Ali!" Leanne called out to the young doctor as he stepped away from the doors of Trim Up North. "You've not seen Nick 'ave you?" _

_"Uhh no," Ali shook his head. "Missing in action is he?"_

_Leanne chuckled slightly. "Yeah, we, umm... we had words earlier and, umm, now I can't find him and he's not answering his mobile. Imran said he thought he'd seen him heading in there earlier."_

_Ali gestured with his thumb over his shoulder. "The barbers? Nah, there's no one in there. I was looking for Maria and thought I heard voices but I must have been hearing things because the place is locked up. Maybe he stopped in and then headed somewhere else?"_

_"Yeah, maybe," Leanne agreed with him outwardly; inwardly she was seething. "Cheers Ali."_

* * *

"Hello? Earth to Leanne?" Peter called to her, waving his hand out in front of her face. "You alright?" he asked in concern as she shook herself out of her trance-like state. "You went real quiet there."

"Uhh yeah, I uhh... just remembered I gotta pick up Oli from his playdate," she quickly downed the rest of her wine, before grabbing her coat and purse and sliding out of the booth. "Look Peter, give Carla my best, okay, and listen," she smiled at him sincerely, "like I told you before, you're an impressive net. Don't be too hard on yourself, alright?" She offered Michelle a half nod, before dashing out of the pub and into the street.

She found herself trudging towards her flat at Victoria Court, her mind flashing back to that day in September and how when Nick had arrived back to the flat he had been incredibly apologetic about his earlier behaviour...too apologetic now that she really thought about it; almost guilt-like...And the way Maria had kept looking at him all night on Christmas Eve...

_'I mean, who would have thought that it would be Nick that were the smart one? Got away from both of us while he could.' _

Her knees started to go weak and she found herself leaning against the front window of Preston's Petals. Had Nick cheated on her that day in September? With Maria of all people?

They did have a history after all; engaged before it all went pear shaped, and that were just a few short years before Liam entered her life...

* * *

"Hey," Nick chuckled as Leanne walked purposefully into the flat they shared. "Where have you been? I was getting worried!" He moved towards her, ready to wrap her up in his arms, but she stepped back from him. "What's wrong?" he asked, noticing for the first time the anger that was radiating off her.

"Where's Si and Oliver?" she asked, taking her coat off and placing it over the chair with her purse.

"Oliver's with Steve, and Si's at Ken's," Nick responded carefully, his eyes never leaving Leanne's. "What's going on?"

"Just when were you going to tell me?" Leanne asked, spinning around to face him directly.

"Tell you what?"

"About you and Maria?"

"What about Maria?" he asked coolly, determined not to let his guard down.

"Oh I don't know, Nick," Leanne huffed sarcastically, shrugging her shoulders as her eyes blazed into his. "How about... that day in September when you and I had that row, hmm? How you disappeared and I couldn't find you or get hold of you for hours? How Imran swore to me that he saw you go into Trim Up North, but how the door was conveniently locked when Ali came looking for Maria..."

Nick swallowed, "I don't know what you're talking about-"

"Oh cut the crap, Nick!" she screeched at him. "I know you were in there with her! So stop denying it!"

"Have you gone whole hazelnuts? Taken a page out of Carla's book or something?" Nick tried to deflect. "You're being paranoid, Leanne!"

"Don't you dare!" She picked up a pillow from the sofa and launched it at him. "Don't you dare try to make out like I'm crazy! Tell me the damn truth Nick or I swear it's over between us!"

"Lea-"

"TELL ME!"

"Okay, this is ridiculous," Nick raised both hands up in front of him. "You have got to calm down. Where the hell is this all coming from, Leanne?"

"You're just going to keep denying it aren't you?" Leanne bit her lip, tears lining her eyes. "You're unbelievable..."

"Deny what?" he shook his head in exasperation. "There's nothing to deny! Why would I have a one night stand with Maria of all people?"

Leanne wagged her finger at him. "Ahh, but that's just the thing," her mouth curled into a sneer. "It's not the only time you've been with her, is it?"

"Ohh ho!" Nick laughed humourlessly, throwing his arms out on either side of him. "So now it's a full blown affair, is it? What next Leanne, hmm? She and I have engaged in some sordid BDSM type of arrangement? We're secretly married or something? Only I think you'll recall it's Peter who's the bigamist around here. And nearly Robert for that matter..."

"You can deflect all you want, Nick, but you know what I'm talking about."

Nick shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. "Leanne, I honestly haven't the foggiest what you're on about." He turned back towards the kitchen, suddenly needing to quench his increasingly dry throat. "Maria and I were together a long time ago. Fifteen years ago to be precise. And you know exactly how that ended. You were instrumental in it after all..."

Leanne snickered but remained rooted to the spot, her gaze firmly fixed on him as he uncorked a bottle of red wine.

"I thought after everything that happened between you two back then, that you would never go back there. I mean, you're right; it's Maria of all people. But then again, you do have a knack for going back to your exes time and time again, don't you Nick?"

"You really are reaching now, Leanne," Nick faced her, leaning his body back against the counter.

"Am I? That's funny because I think I'm finally starting to see things clearly where you're concerned," she snorted in disgust "all these years" she almost whispered, "all these years and I never really put two and two together until now..."

"Put what together?"

"You know what?" she grabbed her coat. "I've had enough of your lies to last me a lifetime."

"Leanne what the hell are you talking about?" He watched as she picked up her purse and headed towards the door. "Hey! Where do you think you're going?"

"Out!" She spun back to face him angrily. "I can't stand to look at you right now."

"Oh no, no!" he slammed the glass down on the counter and pushed himself from the counter. "You can't just accuse me of something like that and then just walk out as if nothing's happened!"

"Watch me!" she sneered at him, before walking out of the flat and slamming the door closed behind her.

* * *

_Author: dipdipdipmyblueship_


	10. Chapter 10

"Whisky." Nick ordered gruffly as he propped his elbows on the bar of the Rovers and dropped his head to his hands.

"Bad day?" Johnny observed with perhaps the tiniest hint of amusement in his voice; he'd seen it all as landlord, the good and the bad, and he'd learned to take it in his stride.

"You could say that."

"Never mind," Johnny tried to chivvy Nick out of his mood. "New Years' coming up soon. I trust we'll be seeing you and Leanne in here?"

"Yeah, I don't know Johnny," Nick muttered, his mind clearly elsewhere. "I think we're going to the Bistro."

"Supporting the competition, I –"

"Get out of my face, will ya!" Nick exploded. "I just want a drink! I don't want you mithering me!"

"Alright," Johnny exclaimed, shocked at Nick's outburst. "No need for that, I'm only being friendly."

"I'm sorry," Nick said with a sigh. "I've had a bad day."

"Hmmpf! No kidding." Johnny grudgingly accepted Nick's apology. "Three fifty."

Nick picked up the glass of whisky that Johnny had placed in front of him on the bar and threw back his head, downing it in one, his face contorted into a grimace as the fiery liquid drained down his throat. "Another!" he ordered as he held a ten-pound note out to Johnny.

"Right you are."

"You alright, Nick?"

Nick looked around, surprised to see Maria standing next to him at the bar.

"What do you care?" he spat at her. "You've had your fun, messed up my life and now you stand there all innocent asking me how I am? You're a hypocrite, Maria."

"Nick, I have no idea what you're on about," Maria protested her innocence, her brow furrowed in confusion. "But if there's something you want to talk about?"

"Talk?!" Nick scoffed. "It's too late for talking!"

"Everything alright here?" Johnny asked as he placed Nick's second whisky on the bar.

"Everything's just dandy," Nick said, picking up the whisky and, just like the first, downing it in one gulp. "You're coming with me." He grabbed hold of Maria's arm and almost dragged her away from the bar.

* * *

"Nick!" Maria whimpered as he pulled her into the yard at the rear of the Rovers, his grip on her arm like a vice. "What are you doing?"

"You want to talk? Let's talk."

"Nick," Maria said as she finally wrested her arm free of his grip. "I don't know what's happened, or –"

Nick laughed and shook his head incredulously.

"What?" Maria asked, dumbfounded.

"You couldn't just leave things, could you?" Nick turned on Maria. "Because your life's a disaster, you want to drag everyone else down with you! Make everyone as miserable as you are!"

"Nick, I don't –"

"You've destroyed my life!" Nick spat his accusation at her. "Completely obliterated my family!"

"Your family?"

"Yes!" Nick raised his hands to his head in frustration. "Me and Leanne and the kids. We're a family–" Nick shook his head in despair. "We _were_ a family until you stuck your oar in. Stirred the pot."

"Family, eh?" Maria asked with a wry smile. "Is that what's important to you?"

"Yes!" Nick almost shouted back at her. "You know it is."

"The things I could tell you about family…"

* * *

_Late summer 2008…_

"What is wrong with you?" Maria stood at the end of the sofa her husband, Liam, was currently sprawled on, her arms folded in frustration. "You've been in a weird mood ever since we got back!"

"You'd be in a mood too if you had to write a best man speech for Tony flaming Gordon!"

"It's one day of your life, Liam, it's not going to kill you."

"I don't know the guy, Maria. I don't even like him."

"So, you smile and you pretend."

Liam merely grunted, unable to share with his wife the real reason he didn't want the job of best man. Carla. The thought of Carla marrying Tony was quietly tearing him up inside. Not that he could ever admit that to Maria. No, it was best he kept quiet and suffered in silence.

"Are you sure there's nothing else the matter?" Maria asked, her voice soft and gentle now.

"Yep."

"Let's forget about them, yeah?" Maria leaned over the back of the sofa and placed her hand tenderly on Liam's chest. "Why don't we go upstairs and –"

"You're obsessed you are!"

"Liam!" Maria's voice wavered, hurt by her husband's rejection.

"Well, it's all so… clinical."

"Have you changed your mind about trying for another baby?" Maria asked, her old fears and insecurities about Liam's commitment to their marriage resurfacing in an instant.

But Liam didn't answer, he didn't even look at her, he just stared up at the ceiling.

"Liam?" Maria pleaded. "Talk to me. Please."

"No." Liam gruffly refuted her assumption. "I haven't changed my mind."

"Then what's the problem?"

"I'm not in the mood."

"But… We don't want to miss our chance. We might have to wait until next month."

"For god's sake, Maria! It's one month! Why are you so desperate to get your hands on my sperm this month!?"

"Get my hands on your –? What?!" Maria stepped back from the sofa, away from Liam; stunned, hurt and angry at his accusation. "If that's how you feel."

Maria stormed out of the house, slamming the door behind her with such ferocity that it shook on its hinges.

"Maria!" Liam called after her half-heartedly; but she was gone. He couldn't say with any honestly that he regretted it.

* * *

"Damn it!" Maria cried as she peered down at the broken heel of her right shoe, caught in a grate on a busy downtown street. It was all too much; the shoe, Liam, trying for a baby, everything! She burst into tears, wanting nothing more in that moment than to sink down onto the ground and have a good cry.

But instead she glanced about her, looking for a solution. And there it was, one of Manchester's top hotels. Maria had never stayed there, but she had been inside once before, to visit the bar on the top floor. She remembered thinking the bar was the height of sophistication, all dark shiny surfaces, LED lights illuminating the shelves upon shelves of liquor that decorated the bronze tinted mirror wall behind the bar. Then there were the walls of seamless floor-to-ceiling windows that wrapped around the venue, and the stunning views across Manchester they afforded. She also remembered the extensive cocktail menu.

So she hobbled through the front entrance of the hotel and across the lobby, luxuriously decorated in marble and gold, making a beeline for the elevator. She was on a mission and nothing and no one was going to stop her.

* * *

"Umm…" Maria scanned the cocktail menu as the bartender waited patiently for her order. "Can I please have a… Cosmopolitan!" Maria made her decision with a grin; it was just what she needed, a little bit of fun, just like the girls in Sex and the City.

"Well well," a strangely familiar voice caught Maria's attention. "Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world."

"Nick!" Maria gasped as she turned around to see her old flame walking towards her. "What are you doing here?"

"I'll get this," Nick announced to the bartender as he placed Maria's cocktail on the bar. "Put it on my room please. Two-oh-eight."

"Oh, thanks, Nick."

Maria raised her glass; Nick raised his, a craft beer. They clinked their glasses together with a mutual "Cheers."

"So…" Maria asked as Nick pulled up a bar stool next to her. "What are you doing in Manchester? You've not moved back from Canada, have you?"

"No, no," Nick replied casually. "I'm still based in Canada, I'm just passing through on business."

"Audrey never mentioned anything."

"And I'd appreciate it if you didn't say anything to her about seeing me."

"Hey?" Maria asked in confusion. "You don't want your family to know you're in town?"

"It's just a flying visit and you know how my family are, especially my mum. I just… I can do without the drama is all."

"Fair enough," Maria said, her eyebrow raised in amusement.

"You won't say anything?"

"Your secret's safe with me. Oh –" Maria placed her cocktail back down on the bar and pulled her phone out of her handbag. "I'm sorry, I –"

Nick watched Maria with interest as she looked at her phone; he watched the scowl that furrowed her brow as she saw her caller's name; then watched as she quickly rejected the call and, with a smile hitched back on her face, turned back to him.

"Seems as if I'm not the only one avoiding people," Nick observed. "Or person? Do you want to talk about it?"

"It's just…" Maria began with a sigh. "It's Liam."

"Your husband?"

"You know about my marriage?"

"Of course," Nick said with a smile. "I do talk to my family on occasion."

"Right," Maria mused, considering just how much to reveal to Nick. "I dunno, he's just… something's changed and I don't know what it is."

"Maybe he's playing away?" Nick said it as a joke but, on seeing the look on Maria's face, quickly backtracked. "I didn't mean… I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Maria reassured him. "You're probably right. You know, I thought we'd made a fresh start, that he'd forgotten about her…"

"So there is someone else?"

"No! Yes. I don't know." Maria sighed. "There was, but he swore it was over."

"He'd have to be a fool to cheat on you," Nick said softly as he placed his hand gently over hers. "You deserve better."

Maria looked up at Nick; the way he was looking at her, it was more than sympathy, it was… No, she had to be wrong. All that, her and Nick, that was all in the past. Wasn't it?

* * *

Maria pushed Nick up against the wall of the hotel corridor, her hands desperately tugging at his shirt, ripping it out from his trousers, pushing the fabric up his body as she ran her hands up his back.

Their lips were pressed together, a fury of unexpected passion, their tongues darting into each other's mouths, gliding over each other's lips, as their bodies melded together in the heat of their mutual desire.

Nick ran his hands down Maria's back, over her arse and, with one swift and powerful move lifted her up into the air; she wrapped her legs around his waist, her arms around his neck, as they moved as one into the hotel room.

* * *

"Maria?" Nick placed his hand gently on her shoulder as if to rouse her from a deep sleep. "Maria!?"

"What?" Maria stared up at Nick, disorientated and confused. She glanced around the Rovers yard as if she didn't know how she'd gotten there.

"Are you okay?"

"Umm… yeah, sorry, I was…"

"A million miles away, I know."

"You're not wrong," Maria began uncertainly. "A million miles, a million years, it feels like that sometimes."

"You're not making any sense," Nick said, his anger having faded away and replaced only with concern.

"I didn't want to lie, Nick," Maria pleaded with him. "You have to believe me."

"Lie about what?"

"I couldn't tell them. I couldn't. They'd just lost their son, their brother."

"Who are you talking about?"

"The Connors!" Maria cried in frustration. "Who do you think I'm talking about?"

"Alright," Nick said, deciding to humour her. "What did you lie to them about?"

"It was just after Liam died," Maria explained nervously. "And it was so soon after Paul. If I'd told them the truth, it would've destroyed them. Baby Liam… he was the only thing that kept Barry and Helen going after Liam died. Their grandson. Their only living link to their dead son. How could I take that away from them?"

"Maria, I have no idea what you're talking about."

"I wanted to tell you," she tried desperately to reassure him. "I really did. But… you were on the other side of the world and Liam was dead and… I was grieving. You understand that, don't you?"

"No, Maria," Nick shook his head in confusion. "I really don't."

"It's Liam," she said as the tears began to fill her eyes. "Liam junior. My son."

"What about him?"

"You remember that night," Maria began to explain. "That night in the hotel."

"Yeah," Nick blushed at the memory. "Of course I do. How could I forget?"

"Do I really have to spell it out, Nick?"

"What?"

"Liam junior was born nine months later."

"Here you are," Emma exclaimed as she walked into the yard with Liam junior in tow. "Why weren't you answering your phone?"

"My phone?" Maria pulled her phone out of her bag and saw the missed calls from Emma. "I'm sorry, I didn't hear it. Is everything okay?"

"We had some ice cream in town and I think Liam here had a little bit too much, didn't you?" Emma looked kindly down at Liam. "He's got a bit of a tummy ache."

"Oh, darling," Maria knelt down in front of her son and stroked his forehead lovingly. "Are you feeling poorly?"

Liam nodded, feeling very sorry for himself.

"Let's get you home, yeah?"

Nick watched the mother-and-son scene unfold in front of his eyes, the truth slowly sinking in. It couldn't be true, he told himself, it just couldn't. This boy that was stood in front of him, this boy that was as good as a stranger to him, couldn't be his son. His disbelief faded and was quickly replaced by anger. If Liam was his son and Maria had kept him at arm's length for all these years.

"Maria!" Nick called after Maria. "We need to talk!"

"Not now, Nick."

"It has to be now," Nick demanded. "You owe me that much."

"Listen," Emma interjected, glancing nervously from Nick to Maria. "Why don't I walk Liam home and you can catch me up?"

"Thanks, Emma," Maria sighed gratefully. "I'll be along in a minute."

Nick watched with eyes that were finally wide open, eyes that saw the truth for the first time, eyes that saw his flesh and blood walking away from him.

"Maria," Nick rounded on her as soon as Emma and Liam had disappeared from view. "You can't just dump that news on me and then walk away!"

"My son is sick," Maria reminded him. "I need to be with him."

"_My_ son as well, don't forget."

"I'm sorry I told you, I shouldn't have." Maria sighed. "Just please forget it and, I dunno, let's just go back to how things were."

"But you have told me, Maria. And I can't forget it. I can't forget that Liam is my flesh and blood. He's my son."

"Well, you're going to have to forget," Maria declared adamantly. "Because I'm not telling him."

"No," Nick shook his head. "I'm that lads father. You've admitted it now, there's no going back. Not anymore. And I can promise you, Maria, that I will fight you with everything I have to be part of his life. Everything. Do you understand me? I will fight you to the death to get back what belongs to me."

* * *

_Author: thelocalknickermerchant_


	11. Chapter 11

_**December 29th 2019**_

Peter sat in a booth at the Rover's, his forehead resting wearily on his hand as he stared down at Carla's notebook and her multitude of handwritten notes.

He flicked through the notebook, his eyes skimming over the various dates and random words she'd scribbled onto the pages. The more Peter stared down at it, the more his mind went into overdrive. If Carla was back to square one with her mental health, then he knew he had to do something about it now before things got too serious. He wondered if he could just be overthinking it but there was just no other explanation.

He sighed as he continued to flip through the pages.

_3rd October, 2008_

_13th October, 2008_

_One night stand (?) _

_Liam_

_Wedding dress_

It just made no sense.

Determined to get to the bottom of the mystery, he flipped through the notebook until he came across a blank page and started to make some notes of his own. He started a list, a list of men that Maria could have slept with.

In a world of his own, his head started aching as he thought long and hard about the predicament he was currently in until...

"Alright?"

Startled, Peter looked up from the notebook with a frown, only to see Nick staring down at him.

"What happened to you?" Peter replied, watching as the younger male sat down opposite him with a weary sigh. "You look rough."

"Thanks very much," Nick said, sarcastically. "I couldn't sleep."

"I know the feeling."

"What are you doing? Your head was basically just inside that notebook."

"It's none of your business," Peter mumbled, taking a gulp of his orange juice. "So run along."

Nick chuckled, holding his hands up in a surrender position.

"If that's how you want to be," he shrugged. "I was just being neighbourly. Checking to see you were okay."

"Me?" Peter narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "You were checking to see if I was okay?"

"Believe it or not, I do have a heart and I do care if I see someone looking like they've got the weight of the world on their shoulders. I can put pettiness aside, unlike you."

"Well, I'm fine."

"Good," Nick nodded.

"Just stressed but that's nothing unusual," Peter sighed, putting his hatred for the man aside; there was no harm in at least being a little bit friendly with him.

"I know what that's like," Nick said. "How's Carla? What's she up to?"

"She had a run in with Maria; I think it's set her back." Peter stressfully rubbed his forehead with his fingers.

"A run in?"

"Yeah. And now I'm worried that Carla might relapse or something, you know?"

"Hardly surprising. That Maria has been a thorn in my side since I came back in 2004. I wish I'd never met her."

Peter frowned, wondering to himself why Nick would be so intensely anti-Maria, "I thought you were both ancient history?"

"We are."

"Do you even speak to each other these days?"

"Why are you suddenly so interested?"

"I dunno, being neighbourly," Peter shrugged. "Just seems like an awful lot of animosity for two people who are clearly over."

A loud giggle drifted over to them; they both turned to the entrance of the pub and saw Maria and Ali headed towards the bar.

"I'm off." Nick abruptly rose from the booth and, after shooting the newcomers an irritated look, he swiftly left the pub.

Peter stroked his beard as he watched Nick exit the Rovers, catching the venomous look he cast towards the hairdresser. There was something going on there, he was sure of it. Maria certainly had got under a lot of people's skin recently: Carla, Michelle, Nick. Nick; Peter's hand froze, his glass of juice momentarily forgotten as he held it inches away from his lips. He remembered the look on Leanne's face when Michelle mentioned the possibility that Maria had cheated on Ali in the barber shop months ago; how she practically ran out of the pub that day. He'd found it strange at the time but hadn't thought too much of it. Until now...

As Peter tried to process all these little tidbits, Maria excused herself to Ali and sat down, uninvited, in the place so recently vacated by Nick.

"Heya," she smiled innocently at Peter. "I don't suppose you know where Carla is?"

"Not right now, no."

"Oh," she replied casually before leaning forward conspiratorially. "Is she alright, Peter?"

"Yeah. Why'd you ask?"

"I don't know..." Maria bit her lip apprehensively before continuing. "It's just, she's been acting a bit strange recently. Don't you think?"

"Don't know what you mean," Peter lied. "She's been fine with me."

"I've been quite worried about her that's all. She seems a bit distracted. You know she messed up that beard oil formula, don't you? That's not like her, she's usually always on the ball. But, I dunno," Maria shrugged casually. "If you think she's alright then..." She stood up, her work done. "I'm just nipping to the toilet."

As Maria walked away, Peter looked over at Ali who was deep in conversation with Johnny and grabbed Maria's bag.

He knew it was wrong, he knew there was never an excuse to go through a woman's handbag, but he needed to know. His suspicions were getting the better of him and he was determined to find out one way or the other whether Carla was relapsing so he could get her help as soon as possible. Unless, of course, there was another explanation.

Pulling the bag discretely towards him, he carefully opened it, making sure no one was watching. He needed anything, anything to ease his anxieties regarding the situation.

He was about to give it up as a lost cause when his hand happened upon something unusual. Lifting the object out of the bag, he turned it over in his hand curiously. Now he knew what was going on. He had proof.

He glanced up and, clocking Maria heading back from the toilets, he quickly pocketed his find and smiled innocently at her as she slid back into the booth.

His suspicions now confirmed, he made an excuse to leave, and hurried back to the flat where he found Carla sat on the sofa.

She was calmly reading a magazine and sipping on a coffee, her feet resting on the sofa. He didn't want to ruin her relaxation but he had to tell her what he had just discovered. If it put her mind to rest even the tiniest amount, he had to tell her.

"Hey," he murmured a greeting as he made his way to the sofa.

"Oh!" Carla started as she looked over her shoulder at Peter. "How long have you been there?"

"Just got here," he said as he plonked down next to her on the sofa. "I'm so sorry."

"Sorry for what?" Carla asked, her eyes narrow with suspicion as she placed her mug onto the coffee table and sat up straight to face him directly. "What have you done?"

"I'm sorry for not believing you." He gently placed his hand on her cheekbone, using the pad of this thumb to stroke the soft silky skin underneath.

"What?"

"But I believe you now," he said with complete sincerity.

"Peter," she shook her head in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"You were onto something," Peter revealed. "Maria did sleep with someone else in 2008. She did have a one night stand which led to her being pregnant with Liam."

"But..." Carla frowned. "Why do you suddenly believe me? Did something happen?"

"I'm so sorry for not believing you before. But I do now..."

"Peter!" she snapped. "Has something happened?"

"I know who Maria slept with, or at least I think I do," he announced as Carla's mouth fell open in surprise. "But we need to do more digging first."

* * *

_Writer: carlafanx_


	12. Chapter 12

_**New Year's Eve 2019**_

"This is, hands down, the most morbid New Years Eve party I've been to in ages," Ryan groaned as he glanced around the Bistro.

"Well, after what happened on Christmas Eve, you can see why, can't you?" Alya took a sip of her lemonade, as she herself noted the uncomfortable tension that hung in the air like a thick fog. "The lack of music isn't helping."

"You think anyone would wanna hear music at this point?" His eyes darted to the multiple couples all sectioned off in various corners of the restaurant, huddled close and speaking in hushed tones.

"I think it might be the best way to lighten up the mood in here, else I might actually have to take up drinking..." she chuckled

"Yeah, you're probably right."

"I know I am."

With a playful roll of his eyes, Ryan leaned down and kissed his girlfriend, before heading to the makeshift DJ booth they had set up earlier that day, passing by one particularly unhappy couple.

"This how it's going to be all night then, is it?" Nick leaned against the bar. "Barely talking, barely even looking at each other?"

"Oh pass us the smallest violin in the world, would ya," Leanne rolled her eyes, popping a cube of cheese into her mouth.

"Look, why don't we just leave?" Nick suggested hopefully. "It's not like either of us really want to be here anyway, do we? It'd be nice to maybe spend some time alone together?"

"Huh!" Leanne scoffed. "Speak for yourself! I happen to be enjoying the atmosphere."

"You just can't help but take your pound of flesh, can you?"

"Ughh," Leanne placed her glass on the bar and turned to face him. "Look, Nick, we already hired a babysitter, so we may as well stay out now and make the most of it."

"Once more with feeling..."

"Whatever Nick, I'm going to the loos."

"Fine." As she turned to leave, he lightly held onto her hand. "Maybe when you get back we can actually try to enjoy ourselves?"

"After what you did?" she sneered as she pulled her hand free. "Unlikely."

Nick watched in despair as Leanne turned on her heel and stomped towards the toilets.

"Eh oh," David nudged Carla and nodded towards his brother. "Trouble in paradise again."

Peter dropped his arm from Carla's shoulder to her waist and pulled her closer to him, kissing her softly on the temple before gently chastising young Platt. "Whatever's going on between them is none of our business."

"Whatever you say," David rolled his eyes. "But I for one am enjoying watching Mr Perfect squirm."

"I am surprised at you, David. That's not like you at all." Carla grinned at David who winked at her before heading back to where Shona, Sarah, and Adam were sitting in a booth.

"You okay?" Peter whispered, pressing a soft kiss on Carla's cheek

She nodded reassuringly, her head leaning against his but keeping her eyes focused on where Maria lazily hung off Ali's arm, her fingers twirling in his hair.

"Come on love, tell me what you're thinking?"

"I'm thinking I'd like to wring her scrawny little neck," she mumbled as she sipped absently on her lime and soda.

Peter cast his gaze over to the tableaux being played out by Maria and Ali, his own eyes narrowing in disgust. "Yeah, you and me both." He glanced around the Bistro, taking in the tension that seemed to be pressing in on them. "You know what? I reckon it's more than just us two..."

"Yeah, well, I'm not going to let her spoil our New Years," she placed her drink down and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Because when that clock strikes midnight, Mr Barlow, I want us to have the kiss we should have had last year..." Her lips pressed softly against his, her tongue flicking across them teasingly. "I love you Peter, you do know that, don't you?" she asked quietly.

"I know," he smiled, his hands caressing her lower back. "I love you too."

"Ughh! Put her down, would ya?" Michelle quipped, interrupting their kiss with a knowing smirk and lightly pulling Carla towards her. "Can I steal her highness for a moment? Need some help with the canapés."

"As long as you promise to give her back," Peter chuckled.

"No promises," Michelle winked at him. As she headed around the bar with Carla, she glanced over to Maria and her son one last time, the disdain in her eyes clear for all to see, before disappearing into the kitchen.

"I'm just gonna nip to the toilets, babe," Ali kissed Maria on the cheek. "Try not to miss me too much."

"I'll try to contain myself," she flirtatiously kissed him. "Hurry back, yeah?" She turned to the buffet, a smile still playing on her lips, and stacked a number of phyllo canapés onto a small plate.

"We need to talk," Nick growled into her ear as he grabbed onto her elbow.

"Let go of me," she wrenched her arm free. "I've got nowt to say to you."

"Oh, I think you do!"

"I won't ask you again, Nick," she warned him as her eyes darted about nervously. "Leave me alone."

"Not until I've said my piece. I think you owe me that much, don't you?"

"I don't care what you think. Just stay the hell away from me!"

Leanne watched Maria shrug him off, feeling her cheeks flush with anger as Nick tried once more in vain to get her to talk to him. She felt her stomach turn as Maria walked away, leaving Nick standing in the centre of the Bistro watching her go like a lost puppy. She exhaled a steady breath. Where was the Nick who came back into her life late last year? The one who stole money from his wife to fund buying Peter's shares in Underworld? The Nick that had zero remorse about stealing his grandmother's money and allowing an innocent dead man to take the blame? Watching him now, she barely recognised him. This Nick, the one that was letting someone else call the shots, was not the man she knew. Not the man she loved. This Nick, was making her sick.

"Here, you look like you could do with this," Carla interrupted her thoughts with a very welcome glass of wine.

"Cheers," Leanne accepted the proffered glass and immediately swallowed a large gulp, her eyes darting about her to the pristinely decorated Bistro. "Bet you're missing having one of these an' all tonight?" she asked as she lifted her wine glass into the air.

"Am I ever," Carla raised her lime and soda to her nose and sniffed it despondently. "Tap water last year. Not much better this year with sparkling apple juice..."

"Oh, will the real Carla Connor please stand up?" Leanne's laughter died on her lips as she clocked an incensed looking Gary enter the room. "Great, that's all we need."

"Well, well, well," Gary said as he stalked towards Maria and Ali. "Isn't this cozy."

"Gary, please," Maria quietly pleaded with him.

"Hey!" Michelle barked from her position by the kitchen door. "I don't want any trouble in here, tonight, Gary."

"And you won't have any from me," Gary held his hands up in mock surrender. "I promise."

"Look, it's best if you just leave, yeah?" Ali stepped protectively in front of Maria.

"Maria?" Gary pointedly ignored Ali. "Just five minutes, please? That's all I ask."

"Look, she's made her choice, alright?"

"Pfft! For now, you mean..."

All eyes turned to Leanne, as she continued sipping her wine innocently.

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

"It means, Gary, that she may have chosen Ali today but maybe you'll be the lucky one tomorrow, or the next day, or the day after that..." She pinned Maria with her gaze and smirked. "It really depends on which exit her merry-go-round lands don't it?"

"Leanne-" Nick warned.

"I mean, chances are she may very well not even choose either of you in the end. Eh, maybe she'll try her luck with Peter this time..." she nodded towards Carla, whose focus was firmly fixed on Maria.

"Oh shut up, you stupid cow," Maria huffed.

"Though, let's be honest, if you do go after someone it'll be the one that got away, won't it Maria? You know, the one that escaped your clutches all them years ago?" Leanne looked over her shoulder and locked eyes with Michelle, "the one that you hooked up with in the barbers shop a few months back?"

"What the hell is she on about?" Ali stepped away from Maria.

"Leanne, please-" Maria pleaded before Leanne's glass slammed loudly onto the bar.

"Don't you _dare_!" Her heels clacked loudly against the tiled floor of the Bistro as she stalked towards Maria. "Don't you dare beg me to keep your sordid little affair under wraps after all the damage you've caused!"

"Will someone please explain what the hell is going on?" Ali thrust an arm out between the two women. "Nick? Do you know anything about this?"

"Yeah, let's ask Nick! Nick will know, won't you?" Leanne felt two hands hands grip her arms tightly but she shrugged them off sharply and spun to glare at her partner. "Come on Nick, tell them what I'm on about!"

"Lea, that's enough," Nick tried to reach for her arm again.

"Get off!" She stepped out of his reach. "You're seriously going to stand there and protect that slapper?"

"Oh, I'm a slapper, am I? That's a bit rich coming from the woman who's slept with half the north-west back when you walked the streets! How much is your going rate nowadays?"

Maria didn't have a chance to enjoy the results of her insult before Leanne grabbed fistfuls of her hair, yanking her roughly towards her and delivering a stinging slap. Maria fell to the ground as a collective gasp from the punters echoed around the Bistro dining room. Her fingers gingerly touched her cheek as she watched Leanne being picked up and hauled away by Nick; screaming how she'd better watch her back...

"Put me down!" Leanne kicked her heel painfully into Nick's shin, her feet landing cat-like on the floor in the hallway near the toilets as he grunted in pain and dropped her. She turned and, placing her hands on his chest, gave him an almighty shove that caused him to hit the wall behind him. "How dare you!" she screamed at him. "How dare you ruin us!"

"Leanne, I don't know what you're talking ab-"

"I know about Liam, Nick!" she screeched. "I know he's your son!"

"Keep your voice down!" Nick hissed.

"Why? Worried everyone will find out about the mess that slapper has made of everyone's lives? My life, your life, our life." The last came out as almost a sob, the reality of what this news meant for them as a couple, as a family, truly beginning to sink in. "God, I could throttle you sometimes!"

"Please, Lea, can we go somewhere private? Talk about this like adults?"

"Why?" Leanne's moment of weakness had passed as her anger resurfaced. "Worried about us little women getting into another scrap? Terrified your girlfriend will ruin her updo? 'Cause I'm telling you now, it's her face that's most at risk!"

"Leanne, please-"

"No, Nick," she shook her head. "The time for talk is over now. So you best buckle up, because everyone in that Bistro is about to find out exactly what you and that tart have been up to." She took a menacing step forward as she delivered her final threat. "And if you even think about trying to stop me, you're going to regret it... both of you..."

* * *

_Author: dipdipdipmyblueship_


	13. Chapter 13

"Oi! I want a word with you!"

"Oh god, just leave me alone Leanne, would ya? You've caused enough of a scene as it is!" Maria turned to walk away only to find herself pulled back, Leanne's hot breath next to her ear.

"Unless you want me to spill your little secret to everyone, you'll speak to me. Now!" With a growl and a shove Maria was flung forward, her exit blocked by a table at the rear of the Bistro. She spun to face Leanne, leaning her body against the table, her palms pressing into the smooth wooden surface.

"Okay, look Leanne, I'm sorry for what I said about your past alright?" Her eyes darted about the busy Bistro as she tried in vain to control the involuntary shake that threatened to overtake her body completely, desperate not to appear as scared as she felt.

"This isn't about my past, it's about yours and Nick's present and you damn well know it." She took another purposeful step towards Maria, using the cheery crowd around them as cover from knowing, prying eyes.

"Leanne, I have no -"

"Oh, you know what? Save it!" Leanne scoffed, waving her hand in irritation. "I'm not stupid, Maria, and by looks of things neither is Ali."

"What?"

"Well, he certainly hasn't stuck around to hear your excuses for cheating on him, has he? And just wait 'till he finds out that it were my boyfriend you were screwing in the barber shop that day."

"Leave Ali out of this-" Maria pressed her lips together, her voice low and shaky.

"Aww, or what?" Leanne mocked. "You actually trying to threaten me? We've been down this road before, me and you. Do you really want to take me on again? You little tart!"

"You don't scare me," Maria squared up to her, her body language attempting to be imposing but the quiver in her voice giving her away.

Leanne took a step ever closer to her. "Oh, I think I do..." she smirked as Maria stumbled back against the table, trying in vain to regain her balance. "Now, you best be listening because I'm only going to say this once," she said as she placed her hands flat on the table either side of Maria and leaned in, menacingly close. "You are not going to mess up my family. Nick and I have been through too much to let a quick fumble with the hairdresser for his nan's blue rinse brigade break us apart. So if I see you sniffing around my boyfriend again, I promise you, I will end you."

"Leanne," Maria breathed out slowly. "You've got this all wrong. Nick and I are ancient history."

"Still in denial, eh? I guess I'm just too damn subtle for my own good," Leanne sneered. "I know everything and I do mean, everything! All the damage you cause to everyone around you," she tutted, relishing the look of fear that danced in Maria's eyes. Too long had she kept her Battersby temper under wraps and boy did it feel good to unleash just a hint of it. "Now I get it, you might think that tonight's not the time or the place to break open your closet full of skeletons. But me? I think it's the perfect time. So," Leanne continued on matter-of-fact. "You come clean about yours and Nick's little secret. Tonight. And, just in case I haven't managed to get through to that thick skull of yours..."

Maria gasped in terror as a heavy wooden centrepiece slammed down onto the table, narrowly missing her fingers. Her eyes widened as she stared up into Leanne's, who straightened up and flicked a piece of hair from her eyes. "I hope I've made myself clear?"

She turned and sauntered through the oblivious crowd towards where Nick stood at the bar, eyeing her warily. She smiled callously; she held all the cards tonight. She knew it, he knew it.

Oh yes. This would be the last time that Leanne Battersby let her guard down where men were concerned.

* * *

_Author: dipdipdipmyblueship_


	14. Chapter 14

"You lying, two-faced little tart!" Michelle hissed, not wanting anyone on the other side of the door to hear the venom in her words.

"What are you on about?" Maria demanded, exasperated.

"Oh!" Michelle let out a manic laugh, bringing her hand up to her mouth and cupping her chin, a steely look in her eyes. "Don't you dare play the innocent with me! I know exactly what you've done!"

"Michelle, I have no idea what you're talking about!" Maria insisted, her heartbeat speeding up.

"I know what you've done and I know who you've done it with!" Michelle cried. Maria took a deep breath.

"Chelle-"

"Carla was right about you all along. How the hell didn't I see it all those years ago?" Michelle lamented, turning away from Maria and bringing her hands up to her head. She spun round again, before Maria had a chance to respond.

"I mean, Nick Tilsley? Nick flaming Tilsley?" She shook her head. "How could you? All this time. I trusted you and you lied to me. All this time you've been lying to my face! You spiteful, manipulative cow!"

Maria watched as Michelle began to crumble, tears dragging dregs of eyeliner down her cheek. Her stomach dropped at the sight before her; the reality of what she'd done hitting her like a ton of bricks.

"I'm sorry..." She whispered, tears welling in her own eyes. She quickly blinked them away. "I wanted to tell you, so many times."

"Then why didn't you?" Michelle demanded, taking a step closer.

"Because I didn't want to hurt you! I know how much you love little Liam, and..."

The look of sudden confusion quickly being replaced by horror made Maria trail off.

"Oh my god." Michelle exhaled, backing away until she was pressed against the shelving unit behind her. "Oh my god!"

"Michelle, I-"

"Carla was right! This whole time, she was right!"

"No, Chelle-"

"And _you _made us all think she was relapsing!" Michelle shook her head manically, trying desperately to clear the fog forming inside her brain. "When all this time, you've been lying to us. When were you going to tell us the truth, Maria? When?"

Maria hardened. This wasn't her fault. If Carla hadn't dragged it out of her; if Michelle hadn't pushed her to reveal the truth, then they'd all still happily be in the dark.

"Oh, come on, Michelle! You've clearly worked it out quite easily tonight! You could have done it years ago, if you weren't so wrapped up in yourself!"

Michelle stopped crying, her gaze latching onto Maria. She narrowed her eyes.

"I didn't work anything out..."

"Oh for gods sake, Chelle! _I know what you've done, and I know who you've done it with!_" Maria mimicked Michelle, mocking her. Michelle took a deep breath.

"I was talking about Ali..." She breathed. Maria's confidence faltered.

"What?" She whispered.

"I was talking about Ali! You and Nick in the barbers!"

"Oh my god, you're obsessed!" Maria stated, her exterior hardening once more. "It's not healthy, this. The interest you take in your sons' relationships is quite frankly disturbing."

"Don't you dare turn this around on me!" Michelle hissed. "I'm looking out for my son! Which is more than can be said for you! Your poor kid believes his dad's been dead for ten years, Maria!"

"You're hilarious, Michelle. You wanted nothing to do with Ali a few years ago! It was like he didn't exist to you!"

"That's not how it was and you know it!"

"It's what everyone thought. It's just funny really, how he didn't even cross your mind until-"

"Shut up, Maria..." Michelle warned, heat rising up through her neck.

"Until after Ruairi-"

"I am warning you…"

"It's like you lost one son and suddenly remembered you had another!"

The sting of Michelle's palm against Maria's cheek sent heat across her face. Before she had chance to recover, Michelle's hand snaked around her ex-sister-in-law's neck, pinning her against the wall. Behind the tears in her eyes, Maria could see the clear fire of rage.

"You're an evil, evil cow..." Michelle hissed. "My nephew deserves so much better than you!"

Maria smirked, choking to catch her breath.

"Only he's not your nephew, is he?" She mocked, struggling to get the words out against the force of the fingers wrapped around her throat, which only tightened in frustration.

"Who's the real daddy then, Maria? Your bit on the side?" Michelle spat through gritted teeth. "You cheated on one Connor with him, so it's not difficult to imagine you'd have done it before."

Maria caught Michelle off guard, shoving her away. Michelle lost her grip, stumbling backwards as Maria heaved in a deep breath.

"Come on, Maria!" Michelle yelled, knowing she wouldn't be overheard judging by the sound of the rowdy crowd on the other side of the door. "It's him, isn't it? Nick Tilsley is Liam's dad!"

But Maria simply laughed, further infuriating her former sister-in-law.

"Fine. I'll just ask him myself then, shall I?"

She quickly realised the error she had made by turning her back on the hairdresser when she was violently pulled from the door. Letting out a yelp of pain, she reached up on instinct to where Maria's hand clutched a clump of hair in her fist, trying in vain to pry it free, only to be flung against the wall that she had Maria pinned up against minutes prior. Her eyes narrowed in surprise at the fury emanating off the woman who was now blocking her exit to the dining hall.

"If you think I'm going to let you walk out of here just so you can ruin my life more than you have done," Maria sneered, "you have another thing coming."

* * *

_Author:_ _bananabreakdowns_


	15. Chapter 15

Pushing open the main doors, she stepped out of the claustrophobic heat of the restaurant and into the welcomed chill of the last evening of 2019. She leaned forward, placing her hands on her knees as she steadied her breathing, before pushing herself up again and pulling her mobile out of her pocket.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the woman of the evening!"

Maria spun, hand on chest, towards the voice to see a figure leaning against the wall by the Bistro's kitchen entrance, completely shrouded in darkness save for the light of a cigarette.

"Oh, you scared me!" she exhaled in relief, as an eerily calm Peter emerged from the shadows. She slid her mobile back into her coat and wrapped her scarf tighter around her neck, "what are you doing out here?"

His eyes unmoving from her, he gave a small shrug and raised the lit fag up, before taking another drag of it.

"Yeah, I just fancied some fresh air myself," she shoved her hands in her pockets and shuffled from foot to foot.

"Getting too hot in there for you, is it?"

"What?"

"I gotta hand it to you," he stubbed out the cigarette against the brick wall, "you certainly have your little doe-eyed innocent act down pat."

"Excuse me?"

He continued to stalk towards her, ignoring the confused look on her face, "-dropping bombs and just walking away unscathed; forcing others to clean up your sordid mess. Hey, you and Gary are perfect for each other in that way, I'll give you that."

"Oh, not you as well," she rolled her eyes, turning to head back in the Bistro.

"Hey, don't you ignore me!" He grabbed hold of her arm and tugged her towards him.

"Peter! I need to get back inside."

"I don't care what you need!" He snapped.

"Look, I've had the evening from hell, alright? So, just say what you have to say," She sighed as she pulled her arm free and faced him.

"You know, I actually used to think you were an alright person. A bit naive but you had a good heart, good morals. How stupid was I..."

"What are you on about?" She quizzed.

"…even after all you've been through in the past with her, you still put everything aside with Carla when she needed you; through all that Frank business? You were there for her when I couldn't be. You were a true friend," he exhaled. "but that means you also know about her demons; how strong she acts on the outside when underneath it all, she is vulnerable and fragile."

"What has this got to do with anything? Why are you bringing all this back up for?"

He ignored her questions, his eyes remaining on hers, "I nearly lost her a few months ago. And she has worked too flamin' hard to get back on the road of recovery and get her independence back, to have her 'so-called' _mate _mess her about."

"Is this about what's been happening recently?"

He cackled loudly.

"Have you been drinking?" She questioned, sensing his anger.

"Have I been drinking?" He mimicked. "Oh, is this another one of your set ups to make everyone believe I've fallen off the wagon? Because you've been there and done that, haven't you?"

"Leave me alone." She rolled her eyes, attempting to walk away when he grabbed her upper arm roughly, "Oi!"

"How does it feel, hmm? You almost succeeded in making us believe Carla had relapsed. Hell, you almost had her believing it!"

"Peter, I have no idea what you're on about!"

"Oh really?" He raised his eyebrows, pulling an item out from his pocket, "Missing something?"

She swallowed a lump in her throat, her complexion paling, as she recognised the bottle of peppermint oil she had stashed in her purse days earlier.

"Hav-have you been in my bag?"

"Is that all you have to say?" He shoved her away from him in disgust. "How dare you? How dare you do this to her!" He shouted.

"I haven't done anything!" Her mouth opened in shock.

"Oh don't play the innocent, Maria. You switched the bottles on her! Were trying to make out she was getting things wrong, that she'd lost the plot, all so your little secret was kept hidden!"

"This is absolute nonsense."

"So, that's how you're going to play it, hmm? Pretend like you never did 'owt?"

"That's because I haven't done anything! Why won't you believe me!"

"Because there," he held the bottle in the palm his outstretched hand, "There is the proof!"

"Who's to say Carla didn't put it in there?"

Peter shook his head, nothing but rage in his eyes as he stepped menacingly towards her, "Don't you even think about trying to turn this around on Carla! I know what you did," his voice dropped to a low register, "and I'm telling you now, I'm not letting you get away with it."

"You know what? You both have officially lost your minds! Carla must've turned you mad an' all!" She answered back, fed up of being shouted at.

"What has happened to you?" He frowned. "You're vile."

"Is that right? Well I've had enough of you all thinking you can push me around, stomping up to me and giving me a mouth full. I'm sick of it!"

"Then maybe you shouldn't go messing with people's lives then!"

"I've had enough of this, I'm going back inside." She jumped back as Peter stepped in between her and the Bistro door.

"Oh, no you don't!" he grabbed her arm in a vice-like grip, "I'm not done with you yet!"

* * *

_Writer: carlafanx_


	16. Chapter 16

"Hey," Maria peeked her head around the doorframe. "Have you-"

Carla held up a finger as she finished talking into the phone. "Okay Daniel, but if you do change your mind, we'd love to see you and laddo. Okay, love. Ta-ra."

"Sorry, but have you got a minute?"

"I'm surprised you've got any to spare," Carla said as she perched on the edge of the desk. "You've certainly been Miss Popular tonight."

"Tell me about it," Maria huffed, unwrapping her scarf from around her neck and tossing it unceremoniously onto the armchair.

"So, to what do I owe this pleasure?" Carla looked expectantly at Maria.

"Well, I haven't seen you since Beth were having a go at you over the beard oil," she swallowed her guilt down. "And I, umm... I just wanted to make sure you were alright."

"Because you were the one that switched them bottles, right?"

"What? Where's this come from?"

"Oh, it took me a while to clock it, I'll give you that. You certainly have perfected the innocent act over the years, 'aven't you?"

"Carla, you're overthinking things again."

"Yeah, like I overthought what you said about Liam on Christmas Eve, eh? About him not having a chance to be a dad?"

Maria shuffled her feet, trying to steady her nerves under Carla's intense scrutiny.

"I didn't want to believe it. That you would stoop so low to prove you were the better woman for Liam. But then things started coming back to me, you see. Little things, like how Liam told me that in them last few weeks before he died, he couldn't bring himself to sleep with you because," she chuckled humourlessly, "even though he were married to you, he felt like it would be cheating on me..."

"This is ridiculous," Maria placed her hands on her hips, her eyes darting about nervously.

"What's the matter, Maria? Run out of stories to tell?" She grinned as she scanned Maria contemptuously from head to toe. "What Liam ever saw in you, I'll never know. Always did say you had candy floss for brains-"

"Alright, Carla! I think you need to call that shrink of yours, 'cause you've clearly lost it!"

"Have I really?"

"All this? It's just your guilt messing with your head because you know, deep down, that you were responsible for his death. You, Carla. Just you. Liam never got a chance to be a dad because Tony killed him before he even knew. Because of you and your sordid little affair."

"It wasn't an affair," Carla shook her head sadly at the memory. "Liam wanted us to run away together. Start a new life, just him and me. He were begging me to just drop everything and leave with him that night," her eyes lined with tears as she spoke. "I was gonna do it, you know. I'd called a cab and everything. And then I found out you were up the stick."

"You're lying..."

"Oh, it's true, Maria. Ask Leanne. Believe me I tried to deny how I felt that night. But I loved him..." She lowered her gaze to the floor and wrapped her arms around herself. "I loved Liam. With everything I had. Which is why I gave him up. So he could be a father." Carla slowly blinked, focusing now on the woman stood before her. "Don't you see, Maria? When you so smugly announced that you were up the duff, well, that's when you sealed Liam's fate. It was you."

Maria recoiled back, watching as Carla approached her like a cat stalking its prey, her tear-filled green eyes hard and unrelenting.

"It was you who lied to everyone about carrying Liam's baby. You knew it couldn't be his. But I believed you. And I couldn't bear to take away his chance at fatherhood. So, you know what I did?"

"I don't..." Maria shook her head as she stepped back the more Carla approached.

"I went to see him that night. It would've only been hours before he died. And I told him I didn't love him."

"Carla-" Maria's back came into contact with the office door; she had nowhere left to run.

"The last words I ever said to the love of my life, were a lie. And I never got the chance to tell him the truth because I walked away, and then he was-"

With a growl, Carla slammed both palms against the door on either side of Maria's head, causing her to shriek in fright. "All these years, I believed I were responsible for Liam's death. I tortured myself day in, day out. Even when I were with Peter or Nick- the guilt never, ever went away. Because the look on his face when I lied to him that night - when I told him I didn't love him - burned itself into my memory. And all this time, it were you all along."

"No," Maria whispered, a sob escaping her lips.

"Oh, it's too late to deny it now," Carla sneered and stepped back, turning towards the desk. "The question now, little Miss Muffet, is what's next? Hmm?"

"Carla, I-"

She ducked as a glass tumbler shattered against the door above her. Without missing a beat, she quickly pried the door open and made a mad dash out into the Bistro, leaving a satisfied Carla in her wake.

"Tsk tsk," she tutted, walking towards the armchair, her fingers brushing tantalisingly along the scarf the hairdresser had left behind. "You can run Maria, but you can't hide..."

* * *

_Author: dipdipdipmyblueship_


	17. Chapter 17

"Oi!" Maria cried out in surprise as a hand reached out, seemingly from nowhere, gripped tightly onto her arm and dragged her into the Bistro's disabled toilet. "What are ya –!? Oh, it's you."

"Yes, it's me," Nick said as he roughly pushed Maria into the tiny room, locking the door behind them. "You've been ignoring me."

"Maybe that's because I've got nothing to say to you." Maria scowled up at Nick as she rubbed her arm where Nick's vice-like grip had left an angry red mark.

"That's too bad," Nick said. "Because I've got plenty to say to you."

"Well?" Maria stood with folded arms and eyebrow raised as she glared at Nick. "Go on then."

"It's about Liam," Nick said, his voice softening at the thought of his son.

"Why am I not surprised," Maria said as she rolled her eyes.

"Firstly, I want a DNA test."

"You don't believe me?" Maria asked, genuinely stunned at his doubt. "You think I'd lie about something that important?"

"You can't be serious?" Nick scoffed. "You've been lying about this for ten years. So no, I don't believe you. I need to know for sure."

"I'm sure," Maria declared with absolute confidence. "And do you know why? Because, at the time I got pregnant, my sainted husband was too busy chasing after that skank Carla to pay me any attention. Carla Connor," Maria sneered at the name. "I wish I'd never met any of that god-forsaken family."

"Even so," Nick pushed on with his agenda. "I want the test."

"Whatever," Maria shrugged her shoulders indifferently. "What else?"

"What?"

"You said firstly," Maria pointed out impatiently. "I assume there's a secondly?"

"Yeah, there is," Nick nodded. "I want access to Liam. Fifty-fifty."

"No way."

"He's my son. So you say."

"He doesn't know you!" Maria protested. "You're a stranger to him!"

"And who's fault is that?"

"It doesn't matter who's at fault. It's time to face facts, Nick, it's too late for you and him. You need to let it go. Let him go, for his sake."

"No," Nick shook his head as he stepped towards Maria. "No way. You can't keep me from him."

"Just watch me," Maria said with a smirk.

"I won't let you."

"You won't let me?" Maria asked with a laugh; an arrogant and reckless laugh. "You can't stop me."

"Give it up, Maria, just stop fighting me."

"Or what?"

"Hellooo!" the faint voice of Izzy Armstrong on the other side of the toilet door filtered through to the pair inside. "Are you gonna be long in there? I'm busting out here!"

Maria opened her mouth to reply but Nick, acting on impulse, clapped his hand over her mouth, guaranteeing her silence. For now.

_Bang! Bang! Bang!_

Izzy pounded on the door; to no avail. Nick pressed his hand even more firmly over Maria's mouth, covering her nose now as well. She clawed at his hand, trying to pull it away from her face as she struggled to breathe.

"Rude!" they heard Izzy shout out before her mutterings faded away into the distance. "Probably not even disabled. No consideration some people, it's just…"

"What the hell, Nick!?" Maria gasped as she wrenched herself away from his grip. "What are you playing at?"

Nick stared at Maria, at the shock and confusion clearly evident on her face. He shook his head in disbelief. How had this happened again? He'd controlled this for so long and now…

"I'm sorry, Maria, I, umm, I didn't mean… I, umm… I need you to, you don't understand, I need you to understand. I need to –"

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Don't!" Nick warned Maria; he needed her to stop, he felt like control was slipping through his fingers.

"And you think you would be a good father to my son?" Maria asked, her voice dripping with contempt. "You've lost it, Nick!"

"Stop! Pushing me!" Nick pleaded with her, his hands raised to his head, his brow furrowed, a sign of his inner torment.

"Why shouldn't I? Hey?" Maria was on a roll, and she was thoroughly enjoying herself, enjoying Nick's obvious distress. "You always act like you're the big I am, this hot shot businessman, thinks he's better than everyone else. Better than me, that's for sure. You always made me feel stupid, you know, like some braindead hairdresser only good for one thing. A bit of fun. Nothing serious. Not with stupid Maria. But look at you! You're a mess!"

"I told you!" Nick slammed Maria up against the wall, his hands instinctively reaching for her throat. "Stop! Pushing! Me!"

"Ni–" Maria tried to speak, tried to protest, but her voice was no more than a gurgle in her throat.

"You stole from me!" Nick hissed at her, his face inches from hers, their eyes locked together, the terror in hers reflected in the blind rage of his. "The only thing I ever wanted you took it all from me. You ruined my life. You destroyed me. So now, I destroy you."

* * *

_Author: thelocalknickermerchant_


	18. Chapter 18

"Mum!" Ryan followed Michelle from the Bistro kitchen and into the bar area that was packed with staff working tirelessly to satisfy the New Year's Eve revellers, all clamouring to buy their next drink. "Talk to me, what's wrong?"

"Not now, Ry!" Michelle said impatiently. "Can you help me please? I need to get the champagne toast ready for the midnight countdown."

"But –"

"Please, Ry."

"Okay," Ryan held his hands up in surrender. "But this isn't over."

"Oh, it's never over," Michelle replied cryptically. "Even when you think something's dead and buried, nope, there it is again, back to cause some more trouble."

"What are you –?" Ryan wrinkled his forehead in confusion as he stared at his mum.

"Champagne, Ryan!"

And so mother and son got to work, arranging rows of champagne flutes, the clock ticking ever closer to midnight and the dawn of a new year. Michelle prayed that 2020 would bring her and her family more happiness than 2019 had. Right now, she wasn't confident, not one bit.

* * *

"You alright, love?" Peter asked as he wrapped his hands around Carla's waist and pulled her body close to his. "You don't seem like yourself."

"Actually," Carla mused on the events of the evening. "I feel more like my old self than I have in a very long time."

"Oh, yeah?" Peter smiled, a twinkle in his eye. "That's good to hear, but… you know we don't have to stick around if you don't want to. I mean, this lot, they're not exactly cheerful company tonight, are they?"

"No," Carla protested softly, as she snaked her arms around Peter's neck and kissed him softly. "I wanna stay here, just like this, with you."

"If you're sure?"

"We'll block out these misery guts and pretend we're the only two people –"

"Carla," Michelle interrupted, her hand placed gently but unshakeably on Carla's arm. "Do you mind, babe, I need a hand with the champagne."

"The cheek of ya!" Carla exclaimed with a grin. "It's not like I can even drink the stuff and you're putting me to work with it!"

"For god's sake, Carla!" Michelle cried. "I ask you for one favour!"

"Alright, alright," Carla mollified her, exchanging an amused look with Peter. "Calm down, I was joking."

"Sorry, I just…" Michelle shook her head as the tears came unbidden to her eyes. "I don't know how much more I can take, Car."

"Okay," Carla disentangled herself from Peter's embrace to focus on Michelle in her distress. "We'll sort it out, yeah? We'll get the champagne done and then we'll sit down and talk it through. Okay?" She gave Michelle's shoulder a friendly squeeze. "It'll be okay."

"Okay," Michelle nodded gratefully. "Thanks Car."

'Sorry,' Carla mouthed her apology to Peter who simply shrugged in resignation as she led Michelle away by the hand.

Leanne paused to let the pair pass before sidling up to Nick who stood glowering, his elbow resting on the bar.

"Hey," she greeted him casually.

"Come to have another go, have you?"

"No," she shook her head. "I came to say… I'm sorry."

"You're sorry?" Nick stared at her incredulously.

"I'm still mad at you," she cautioned him. "So don't think you're off the hook."

"Noted."

"But I was out of line earlier," she confessed. "I didn't need to be so harsh with you."

"So… You forgive me?"

"I'm working on it," Leanne said. "Listen, Nick, we've been through too much to simply throw what we've got away at the first sign of trouble."

"Oh, Lea, I'm so glad you –"

"So I've made a decision," Leanne cut off Nick's sentiment. "I've decided that, no matter what happens… I'm sticking with you."

"Thank you," Nick said as he breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh, Lea, you have no idea how much this means to me."

"Prove it, Nick," Leanne demanded coolly. "Whatever comes next, you need to prove it to me."

"I will," Nick nodded with absolute sincerity. "And I can guarantee – one hundred per cent – that Maria won't be causing us any more problems."

"No," Leanne said quietly, almost as if she were speaking to herself. "She won't."

"Alright, everybody!" a voice could be heard over the din of the crowd. "Are we all ready for the countdown…?"

"Yes!" the crowd yelled in unison.

"Okay, then… And…"

"TEN!"

Leanne stepped forward and kissed Nick, her hands clasped either side of his face, her lips pressing against his, just for a moment, before she pulled away and smiled up at him, a cold, triumphant smile.

"NINE!"

Michelle placed the tray packed with champagne glasses that she was carrying down onto the nearest table and gripped the back of a chair, desperate to steady her hands that were shaking involuntarily, almost uncontrollably. She breathed in… and out… and in…

"EIGHT!"

Gary strode along the cobbles, his phone pressed to his ear, the dark night softly illuminated by the waxing crescent moon that was visible in the cloudless inky black sky above. "Maria," he spoke intently to her messaging service. "I'm coming to see you at the Bistro, so make your excuses, and meet me outside. We need to sort this out once and for all."

"SEVEN!"

Ali frowned down at his phone as he stood by the bar, a spot he'd chosen especially so that he could easily see people entering and exiting the Bistro. He quickly composed a message and hit send. _Where are you?_

"SIX!"

Alya sat perched on Ryan's knee as she excitedly counted down to her first New Year's kiss with Ryan. But Ryan's attention was focused on the opposite side of the dining room where his mum stood, her hands gripped tightly onto the back of a chair, her face white as a sheet. She picked up a glass of champagne from her discarded tray and, tilting her head back, drained the contents in one long sip.

"FIVE!"

Nick and Leanne stood, their arms wrapped around each other, Leanne's head tucked in underneath Nick's chin, when suddenly Nick's eyes screwed up with a pain that seared through his brain like lightning. He raised his hand and rubbed his temples, desperate for any kind of relief.

"FOUR!"

Leanne's cheek rested against Nick's chest, yet she was anything but relaxed; her jaw was clenched tight and her eyes were fixed in a thousand-yard stare.

"THREE!"

"Hey, you!" Carla said as she forced a champagne flute into Ali's hands. "Get that down your neck and a smile on your face."

"TWO!"

"Oh no no no! No!" Gary ran across the cobbles towards the figure that was crumpled, lifeless, on the ground.

"ONE!"

Peter grabbed Carla by the waist as she handed out the last of her champagne and pulled her towards him. "You're all mine now," he whispered, his voice low and gravelly.

"HAPPY NEW YEAR!"

In the cacophony of sounds that followed; the cheers, the revellers blowing into brightly decorated party horns, and the non-stop _pop! pop! pop!_ of the party poppers, Peter and Carla kissed with a passion as if they were the only two people in the room.

Michelle stood at a distance watching the couple, a sad smile on her face, when she felt the arms of her son, her darling Ryan, wrap around her shoulders and his lips on her cheek, leaving a puzzled Alya alone on the other side of the dining room.

_Should auld acquaintance be forgot, and never brought to mind?_

"Everyone outside for the fireworks!"

"Come on," Nick whispered to Leanne as he grabbed hold of her hand. "This'll be worth watching."

"I do love a good show," Leanne smiled wickedly at him as she followed him out the door.

_Should auld acquaintance be forgot, And auld lang syne._

"Break it up you lovebirds," Ryan slapped Peter on the back as he and Michelle passed the canoodling pair on their way to the door. "You're gonna miss the show!"

Reluctantly, the couple tore themselves apart and joined the throng of revellers heading towards the exit.

_For auld lang syne, my jo, For auld lang syne._

"Oh, wow! Did you see that one?"

All eyes were fixed on the sky above Weatherfield as the dark vastness was illuminated by fireworks shooting up high above them and exploding in a cascade of colourful shimmering lights.

_We'll take a cup o' kindness yet, For auld lang syne._

_For auld… lang…_

A scream pierced through the merriment of the crowd and for a time confusion reigned. No one bothered watching what was left of the fireworks display; all eyes darted here and there, desperately searching for the source of the terror.

"He's killed her." Michelle was the first to speak as she pointed to where Gary Windass was crouched in the dim light over the clearly deceased body of Maria Connor. "Did you see that? He's killed her!"

"Oh my god!" Ryan took a step back in shock.

Carla merely turned away and buried her face in Peter's shoulder; she didn't want to see any more. Peter, his arm wrapped protectively around her slight frame, stared at the scene with a steely gaze.

Nick and Leanne turned to face each other. Without a word, Nick held his hand out for Leanne; she took it, interlinking her fingers with his and held on for dear life. They turned to face the spectacle in front of them as a united force.

"It wasn't me," Gary protested, rising to his feet, his hands instinctively held in the air, a sign of surrender, or innocence, no one knew. "I found her like this. I swear!"

"Somebody call the police," Ali commanded as he stepped out from the crowd to confront the man who had been a thorn in his side for months now. "Tell them we've caught a murderer."

**End of Part One**

_Join us in 2020 as DI Fielding and DS Hill hunt down our murderer with some very unexpected results_

* * *

_Author: thelocalknickermerchant_


End file.
